


sleepwalking

by fusiondescent



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Death Idealation, Dissociation, Emetophobia, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Longing, Techno Babble, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8680075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fusiondescent/pseuds/fusiondescent
Summary: In the aftermath of the Eurasia crash, X finds himself having trouble dealing with the death of his friend Zero. Elsewhere, a certain disgruntled scientist finds pieces of Zero's body and decides to dabble in shadowplay.





	1. Grief

There was a knock at the door. It took only a moment for X to look up from a report written on the current condition of Earth, eyes taking a moment to adjust from the computer screen to the door. “Come in,” he calls out. There was some part of him that expected his friend Zero to walk in, a hopeful glimmer in his eye as the door opened in some prayer that everything had been some odd dream. The light in him left when Signas walked in the room. Anticipation that had once been there left as quick as it came, and as hard as X tried not to look it, disappointment came. “Commander Signas,” his voice betrayed him for just half a second. He had begun to get up from his seat, “What do I owe the visit?”

Signas held up a hand as if to silence X and to motion him to stay seated. “Save me the pleasantries.” He did a once over of the room that X sat in. For all intents and purposes, this room was X’s room, provided by the Maverick Hunters, of course. Though sparsely decorated with pictures and a small collection of rocks (probably dug up on his expeditions with Cain), it looked very much lived in. Signas couldn’t say the same with his own room, or rather, _office_. “I wanted to check on how you’ve been handling the past few weeks.” His eyes laid on a picture of X and Zero together, “With the clean up and—“

“Commander,” it was X’s turn to hold up his hand. “You can just say it.”

There was a small pause, the words suddenly were almost too heavy to say. “How have you been handling Zero’s death?”

Terribly. “As well as I can, it’s not the first time he’s died.” X winced at himself, that was a bit too soon to mention, even when it had been several years after the fact. “I tried looking for his body, to at least give myself some closure. The only thing I could find was his saber.” He motioned towards the saber that sat on his desk, it had practically gone unused since X had come back from fighting Sigma. “It’s almost as if his body just disappeared.”

“There’s still a lot of ground to cover from the crash,” Signas pointed out. “So far we’ve only sifted through 10% of it. I’m sure something will come up.” Worst case scenario that it vaporized falling back to Earth, but Signas didn’t want to point that out.

“I hope. I hate to see what would happen if someone else found his body. I don’t think I would be able to handle seeing Zero’s body be used again to further someone’s own agenda.” But that could be X’s empathy speaking, he had fought copies of Zero before, just not a resurrected version of him.

“Let’s hope history doesn’t repeat itself this time.” Signas spoke, staring back at the picture of X and Zero together. His eyes then slowly looked towards the purple heart medal, he wasn’t sure if it was X’s or Zero’s. “Have you gone through Zero’s belongings yet?”

“No.” Part of him wasn’t prepared to go through Zero’s belongings. In fact, he was dreading it. “I was going to get to it this week.”

Signas nodded. “I would appreciate it if you did soon, we have many new recruits these days and need all the room we can find.” For now, Signas hadn’t had anyone particular in mind to move into that room. Part of him wasn’t so sure to move the new commander of 0th squad into there, the thought of living in the room of one’s dead commander just felt weird. Speaking of 0th squad, “Stephen wanted to talk to you about something.”

X paused for a moment. “Stephen. She’s from Zero’s squad, right?”

Signas nodded. “She wanted to give you something, I can’t say what it is for certain.” X nodded slowly. Signas’ eyes glanced at the clock. “Regretfully, I have to take my leave. I’m sure you have work to do and I’m taking your time away.”

“Of course,” X tried to say it with a smile but talking about Zero made him awfully depressed about the entire situation surrounding the circumstances behind his death. He watched Signas walk to the door but stopped short of it.

“And X,” Signas didn’t look at him but made a motion to open the door, “you don’t need to go through this alone.”

So he noticed the slight isolation that X gave himself between other people. Part of him felt guilty, but he had also read that it was ok to give some distance from other people after death. What was it? The stages of grief? “I know, Commander. Thank you.”

* * *

 

A rock was sent flying across the dirt. Hushed murmurs and fading rants flowed from a rather disgruntled scientist. He was talking to nothing in particular, it was all needless venting towards anything that would listen. He felt stupid and humiliated, feelings that he tried to wave off but couldn’t. He kicked another rock sending it flying across the dirt and over a pile of rubble. “Stupid. Why can’t they see that what I’m doing is for the greater good? Shadowplay isn’t ethical, bah! What isn’t ethical? Building Reploids for work and only work? They’re _robots_. They can’t _feel_. Well **I** can.” It was an endless conversation between himself and only himself. “Dr. Gate, you can’t make this Reploid unanalyzable, other Reploids wouldn’t like it and we don’t want to get into a lawsuit! A lawsuit over what? You humans cloned sheep and sheep didn’t sue you.” Of course, that was an argument with more holes than he can count himself, but the idea of it still held.

Gate’s venting eventually came down to a simmer, words turning to grunts and annoyed glares at anything that moved in the wind. He was wandering, nowhere in particular but just wandering within the crash site of Eurasia. Even if he wasn’t allowed to walk around the crash site, it didn’t matter either way since half the globe was a nuclear waste field anyway. Besides, what harm could come to him for taking a stroll through rubble? Everything was dead anyway, the only thing that was living was anything that creeped into the restricted area, which eventually died from exposure to radiation. He found himself walking in and around the crash site more often if only because no one was there to bother him. There was the occasional Maverick Hunter, but they generally didn’t care enough to kick him out since he usually stated he was here under the guise of a science expedition to research the affects the crash had on Earth. Which wasn’t wrong since he _was_ a scientist, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Eventually his legs had carried him to an area he had never been in before. It was still considered the crash site, but it hadn’t been touched by any cleaning crew or Maverick Hunters to help clean up the mess of left over viruses. It was a chaotic mess, rubble arched up and over to create a half dome of sorts shading the sunset from him. Iron bars poked out of the ground like blades of grass, computers fried to the circuit, and even equipment. There were broken pieces of Reploids and the stench of rotting flesh coming from place to place. Humans and Reploids that hadn’t been able to escape the initial crash, perhaps even those that were even on the space colony when it started its decent down to Earth. It was a shame that the Earth would be forever scorched.

Perhaps he could find something within the rubble that he could use to show the board how shadow play could help save the world. If they wouldn’t acknowledge the worth of his ideas, then he would have to show them. Carefully, but he could do it. It was just finding the right thing to study and evolve from, but what? There was a plethora of untouched data just waiting to be reviewed and repackaged, the only issue was finding something. He could try to gain something from Sigma’s body, there was probably thousands of chunks of him all over the place, but that would be too obvious, and Gate wasn’t really trying to hurt anyone. Not yet at least.

Gate scratched the bottom of his chin, there were probably parts of X lying around and his DNA was just as valuable as anyone else’s. Reports said that he was missing one or two parts of his body when he returned. It would be a duplicate, but there was still his DNA within. But that may be a bit too difficult, even for Gate. There was a sigh as he sat down on a piece of rubble, eyes just wandering around the place. They went from the sky where the sun was about setting, down to the dirt where his eye caught something.

At first Gate wasn’t quite sure what he found. It was covered in dust but it obviously looked as if it didn’t come from the space colony itself. He bent down and brushed off some of the dirt to take a closer look at it, observing it, turning it in his hands, checking the condition of it. Soon after a revelation had hit him. “This is Zero’s core…” he announced to himself. Part of his studying in shadow play stemmed from Zero himself, the fact that he had been resurrected sparked Gate into diving deeper in the study and how it was possible to be able to bring life to an otherwise dead Reploid. Gate had almost forgotten that Zero had died on the space colony, what better way to show the science board than to revive a Reploid that had not died not once, but **twice**. Giddiness swept over him like a river, Zero was one of the most perfect Reploids, if not the perfect Reploid. But he could make Zero better, more efficient, more _perfect_.

Later he would come back to survey the area, no doubt the rest of Zero’s body was kept holed up somewhere. For now, he would keep this keepsake to study then to recreate. For now, in his hands he held the cradle of civilization, of Gate’s civilization. “Zero,” he murmured to the core. “You’re going to serve me well.”

* * *

 

“Put that there. No, no, not there. **There**.” Dr. Gate made motions with his hands towards Zero’s body. Pointing at wires and plugs in some attempt to repair the Reploid before actually trying to revive him. “Isoc, take off his body armor, I need to know the full extent of his damage.”

“You plan to look a horse in the mouth?” Isoc responded while lifting Zero’s helmet off his head and assessing the damage.

“Of course! I need to make him as perfect as possible. I do plan to rebuild him and making him better.” Gate took a step towards Zero looking at the amount of damage the Reploid took. His skin had started to begin to decay from the amount of abuse it had gone through, but it could be easily fixed. Zero’s appendages were borderline crippled, if not already. Most of the trouble, Gate figured, would come at Zero’s bisected body. They would need to recreate the torso from the ground up if they were to make him better. There was a frown, part of Gate believed he had his work cut out for him. Doubt was in his mind that he wouldn’t be able to repair Zero fully, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a new body or a perfect duplicate of Zero. He looked down at Zero’s chest. The red armor he donned had a gaping hole, and even further down he saw the tear in his body. It didn’t take a scientist to deduce that’s where one of Zero’s cores were supposed to be, perhaps the one that he had found earlier?

“You have quite the project in front of you.” Isoc mused while stroking his beard. “Not to mention expensive.” The Reploid made a point of squeezing one of Zero’s pipes which allowed the tiniest drop of Bassinium through.

“Bassinium is expensive, yes, but it can be recreated with the proper elements. I’ve done it before. Now,” Gate tapped Zero’s head, “it’s getting this light to turn on is what we’ll have trouble with. As reliable as shadow play is becoming, it isn’t efficient, and I don’t want to waste my time rebuilding a body that has no mind.”

“And the soul?”

“Soul?” Gate laughed. “Isoc, I didn’t know you were spiritual.”

Isoc shook his head. “Not that. But what good is a Reploid that has no ambition? No motive? Sigma might not have had a body at times, but he had a goal which is why he survived for so long.”

Gate paused for a moment thinking about that. “And what would Zero’s goal be?”

“To live.”

“Not to serve or fight?”

Isoc shook his head again. “To create a subservient Reploid would create a Reploid that bases their actions solely on the opinions of that they serve under. I wouldn’t want a general to command an Army that would wonder what it’s president would think of them. Creating a Reploid whose sole purpose is to fight would just create another Repliforce.”

Another laugh, “But that’s what we want. Another Repliforce. Don’t you think you should expand a little bit on that goal? Maybe not to fight purely but to fight for _something_.”

“To fight X?”

“He would reject that goal unless we wipe his memories, we can reprogram him later but diving that deep into shadow play would create a mindless zombie. Perhaps fight _to_ live.”

“Fight to live? Doesn’t that seem redundant?”

“Not at all. See, nobody likes to die. Especially not twice. There comes a point in our lives that, even when we have the will to live, we also have the will to die. _Memento mori_ : remember, you will die. Zero here is probably at that point in his life , or death, where he has the will to live given the circumstances, but wouldn’t really mind being dead. But fighting to live,” Gate tapped Zero’s head again. “What reason does Zero need to live? In his mind he has reached nirvana. But if we tell him to fight, something he’s already programmed to do, to live then we only need to introduce the ideas so his own mind can figure it out himself. Fight to live to protect humans? To save X? To--?”

“Do anything we want.”

 “Exactly! He can be at the brink of death but because he has the will to fight to live he’ll fight death. Why? Because he just _needs_ to. It’ll be easier to give him a goal later or to reprogram one into him.” Gate moved to grab Zero’s head to lift it up to plug a wire into the back of his head. “Who knows,” he spoke as he turned on the computer to see thousands of lines of codes. “It might even wake him up.”

* * *

 

 X waited at the side of the room as Stephen finished her speech to 0th squad. It was their personal wake for Zero, and somehow X felt awkward being here. 0th squad was a mind of its own, and being here mostly by accident made him feel uneasy. There was luckily no bad blood between him or any of Zero’s squad members, even if X liked to believe one of the beastloids didn’t like him for being such a pacifist. But since he had already arrived just as Stephen began her speech, it would feel rude to leave prematurely, even if he didn’t want to think about Zero for the moment. The wounds were still fresh on his mind.

 “…so I would like to make a toast to Zero for being our commander for so long. Lord knows that he wouldn’t want us to cry over his short comings, but damn did he put up one hell of a fight.” Her squad mates made nods of approval and raised their glasses of oil.

“Ay, we can’t forget either.” One of the Reploids shouted from the crowd, he was rather short compared to the rest of his team. “To Stephen for taking over 0th squad.” There were more shouts of approval. In unison, they raised their glasses and downed the entire thing in one go. Most the squad mates made faces at their beverage and X figured that the drink itself must have been extremely bitter. Somehow there was a smile on his face seeing Zero’s squad so happy even in the face of death.

Then again, 0th squad was the CIA of the Maverick Hunters. Special missions that were borderline suicidal to the normal hunter, all the team members specially handpicked by Zero for these exact situations. There were some B ranks in the fold, but Zero had told X once upon a time that they served a special purpose like a clockwork, no matter how small their contribution. It was a bitter sweetness seeing his squad together, but it could be the grief talking.

From the corner of his eye he saw one of the beastloids come towards him, the one that seemed to dislike him the most. He knew that this one was called Asard from the amount of fights that he got into with the other low ranking Reploids, even within his own team. Though Asard was tall, with X only coming just above the midsection, he knew that the other was all talk. At least that’s what he liked to believe from the stories that he heard from the other Reploids. Admittedly, Asard was intimidating. Perhaps it was the king cobra motif coupled with the fact that, unlike most beastloids modeled after a snake, he had legs and arms. Surely Asard wouldn’t start anything at Zero’s wake (but then again, knowing Zero, Asard just might actually do it).

“X,” Asard grumbled as he got close enough to the Reploid.

“Asard,” X replied in light conversation. He was going to open his mouth to speak more but was cut short at the clawed hand that placed itself on his shoulder.

“Stay strong. Alright?” Confusion. “Even if I hate your guts, you gotta stay strong.” Next thing X knew Asard was making his way back to his team mates with Stephen walking towards him.

She gave a laugh, “I see your making progress in your relationship.”

“Does he usually act like that?” X inquired suspiciously looking towards Asard.

“Oh yeah. It’s how he shows he cares. He might hate you, X, but he respects you.”

“That sounds reassuring.”

“He hates everyone,” she shrugged her shoulders. “He’s a misanthropist and the robot version of a misanthropist. But he gets the job done so we don’t complain.” She sighed rubbing the bridge of her nose, “It’s going to be hard keeping everyone in line without Zero.”

X gave a laugh, “I can imagine.” He held out his hand towards Stephen to shake, to which she took it whole heartedly. “Congratulations on making commander of 0th squad.”

“It wasn’t hard,” she let go and motioned to the rest of the room. “Zero left me in his ‘will’ that I become commander.” Though X didn’t say anything, Stephen caught the confusion on his face practically immediately. “It’s a joke. See, last time he died the squad was left to Lucie. She got killed on a mission so when he came back and requested I join the squad he told me that I would be the next commander in case he died. We called it his will since then.” There was a pause, “He didn’t have an actual will that said that, did he?” X shook his head. “Oh, thank god. That would have been weird.”

“If he had a will he would have asked that everything got donated or given away,” X mused. Zero was like that kind of person, always asking that the things he didn’t need to be given to someone else who needed it more. Working till the last breath and taking no days off in case there was someone that needed him. Being there for X when he needed support. There was some part of X that felt guilty even though there was no reason for him to feel that way.

“Indeed, which is why I wanted to give this to you before I ransack his office.” Stephen motioned for X to follow her which he did. “He hid it in his office a while ago while I worked as his ‘secretary’ and forgot that it existed. I figured you might want it.” For some reason Zero hiding anything already spelled disaster. His memory was more short termed than anything. The single thought that he had forgotten about it made him give a giggle.

“What is it?”

“Honestly? Your guess is as good as mine.” She picked a box off the table and handed it to him. When X opened it he saw sheets of paper folded into small squares and… a floppy disk? “It obviously meant something to Zero, so I’ll let you decipher what it is.”

Regardless of the anti-climactic gift, X smiled and nodded his head. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“No problem. If it has the meaning to the universe on it I rather you knew it than me.” Stephen nodded her head. “Do you have any plans on sticking around? Alexander is planning on telling some stories about Zero and we’d appreciate it if you could tell some.”

Part of X wanted to, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to become a crying mess in front of everyone. Not right now, the wounds were still fresh. “No, I have more work to do.” Which wasn’t a lie, but his work didn’t need to be submitted for weeks.

“Of course,” Stephen smiled and placed a gentle hand on X’s shoulder. “I know you two were close, and I can’t really offer that type of brotherhood to you, but I’m always free to talk.”

\“Thank you, Stephen.”


	2. The Ethics of Death

The mind felt hazy. A fog clouding his vision even though he could not see. There was numbness surrounding his body, although he could not place the feeling, it was ethereal. One would describe it as a dreamless sleep, or astral projection crossed with sleep paralysis. He couldn’t move, but at the same time he could in a way he couldn’t describe. It was almost as if he was moving and his body was trying to catch up, yet in this case he had no body.

It was peaceful. Death was peaceful. Initially he had feared it when his vision had become blurry and he was beginning to see visions of his past, but now being able to feel at peace, he welcomed the warmth of it. There was that part of him that didn’t want to go on to the afterlife-reincarnation-whatever, there was the part of his soul that still fretted over the world and what could happen to it. Yet the better part of his mind knew better than to question the state of the world. X would keep it safe, and with that thought, he slowly, but surely, spiraled back into nothingness.

* * *

 

X walked into Zero’s room looking around the place as if he wasn’t allowed to be there. No one could blame him, it had been weeks since he had entered Zero’s room, even before the entire incident with Eurasia. Everyone had been so stressed over the hanging noose on the world that they recharged, if sparingly, and when they did it was in the more public rooms that the Maverick Hunters had for more low rank recruits. Zero’s room was just as standard as X’s. A recharge pod, a desk with chair, a dresser, a personal computer, filing cabinets, and then some other ‘decorations’ that Zero had set up for himself. A whiteboard was hung next to Zero’s recharge pod with nonsensical scribbles all over the place, next to that, a calendar that was one month behind. Where to begin?

With a sigh, X set down the few boxes he brought in and took out a trash bag he had brought with in case he needed to throw or toss clothes in to donate. He wrapped it around the chair and began his work of sifting through Zero’s belongings. Although X had put aside an entire day to go through Zero’s things, he didn’t plan on taking that long. Zero, like X, lived as sparingly as possible, perhaps even more so.

Giving another once over, X decided to start at the corner near his recharge pod and work in a circle. First, the whiteboard and calendar. Curiously enough, X tried to decipher Zero’s handwriting. They looked like important notes on dreams or who was going to go on patrol on what day. He had to take a step back before thinking too much about it. Into the box it went. Next was the calendar. Like the whiteboard, X also read through it though more sparingly. It mostly listed certain due dates for reports, missions, and some were more formally titled. “Coffee with X”, “Training with Squad”, “New Recruit”, “Speech on Replif—”. X stopped there and threw the calendar in the trash.

A self-pep talk was in order. “X, you’re here to pack Zero’s belongings. Not snoop.” In retrospect X knew he wouldn’t listen, but he said those words anyway to try to take himself away from the situation, even if for a moment.

Next was the dresser. He walked towards it and picked up the box on top of it labeled “Medals”. Opening it was every medal that he was awarded, POW, purple heart, silver star, the list went on. He picked up the POW medal in particular. X remembered how Zero joked about them not having a medal for being resurrected in the line of duty so awarded him the POW medal instead. But Zero was a prisoner of war, he was held against his will and was resurrected in shadow play. Still, Zero joked about his death when it obviously affected him. It was always sarcasm in his replies of death, never anything serious. He frowned as he placed the medal back and closed the box setting it within one of the larger boxes he brought. He’d have to keep them.

Going through Zero’s clothes was the easiest part of cleaning out his room. He put them all in another trash bag to be left to donate. The only article of clothing he didn’t donate was a jacket that X felt compelled to keep. It was a little too large on him, but he’d wear it nonetheless. It vaguely smelled like Zero. Vaguely he remembered one night they were together and Zero let X borrow the jacket to use to keep the cold at bay. It was an official Maverick Hunter jacket, completed with a patch insignia and everything. He put it in the box with the medals. Moving onto the filing cabinets, X made sure to keep everything as organized as possible to sift through at another date. He figured important papers such as files about his squad, medical exams, or sensitive papers were within. It would be easier to determine what was necessary papers in the following week. He put all those papers in another box, labeled the boxes, and put them to the side with the clothes to be donated.

Green eyes looked towards the desk. Part of X wanted to factory reset the computer and call it a day, but knowing Zero he kept something important on there. There was a sigh as he sat down at the chair and turned the computer on. Password protected. X furrowed his eyebrows. A bit of guesswork later X had figured out that Zero’s password was the date he was activated and the date he came back from the dead backwards. Clever.

He hooked a spare hard drive to the computer and began to transfer all the data on his computer onto it to be looked at on a later date. Much of the things worth noting on his computer were programs Zero made himself. None of them were completed, as far as X could tell, but they appeared rather odd. Later he would have to see what it really was, but while everything transferred X was to go through the drawers in the desk.

The first one he opened contained junk which X promptly threw in the garbage. The other one contained several photo albums. Curiosity killed the cat and X grabbed the one on the top and opened it. It was the first picture that made X begin to sob. The photo was of Dr. Cain, X, and Zero. The two Reploids were in armor while Dr. Cain was dressed in his old archeology outfit standing between the two bots holding them as if they were his children. Zero’s smile was casual yet awkward while X’s was small yet bright. It was before the war, before X had joined the Maverick Hunters, before all the horrible things that led up to the very point of X crying in Zero’s room over a photo taken several decades ago.

Grief hit X like a bus. He had just become hit with the realization of how much he missed Cain and Zero. He had friends other than those two but now he was without anyone to freely express himself. Cain was there when Zero died to console X. Zero was there when Cain died to console X. Now, with the both of them dead, X found himself feeling void, purged of emotion and feeling. X didn’t want to feel like this, yet all he could do was sob into his hands and muffle curses into nothing as he slowly drifted into depression.

* * *

 

“The analysis for Zero’s DNA has begun.” Isoc announced rather pleased with himself. A few days had passed since bringing Zero into the care of the two scientists. They were making progress with Zero, slow, but progress nonetheless. Gate had begun to pump Bassinium into Zero’s body to prepare him to slowly regain consciousness.

Gate looked up from the pipes he had been monitoring. “Excellent, do you have an estimate on when it will be finished?”

“A year.”

“Really? I thought it would take much longer.”

“It is rather complex, but I have made some changes to the programs to hasten the progress.” Isoc moved towards Zero. He was stripped of the armor he once wore and now was laying on the table completely ‘nude’. Nude was an inaccurate term, there was no synthetic skin from the neck down. All Zero was below his neck was black metal that vaguely looked of a 20th century robot. It was human looking, but not human at all. “How is Zero coming along?”

“Slowly.” Gate pointed at the computer screen, “I’ve been creating a schematic for Zero to base off when I do the repairs. In all respect, he’s the same, save for a few minor details. Some aesthetic changes to his armor, but still the same.”

“And his mind?”

“Faint, but still there.” Gate moved towards Zero’s head. “He’s not alive, neither is he dead.”

“Bordering reality and hell.” Isoc mused out loud. “Fitting.”

“If it pleases you.” Gate’s eyes flicked up towards Isoc for a moment, then back down to Zero.

“Is there a reason?”

“He’s at the tip of the iceberg, the climax of his life. Of course, he’s teetering towards death, it’s the natural course of things. You think you’re dead, so your body feigns death. In Zero’s case, he’s dead. But for some reason he keeps slipping out of that for just a fraction of a millisecond.”

“So he’s dead, but alive?”

“In a sense. Think of it as a battery being used even though something is turned off. It’s off, but the battery still allows it to function sparingly. This helps us. See, he’s aware of himself in those seconds. He’s still dead, but the more **metaphysical** part of him is alive and well. All I have to do now is get into that head of his, create a virus that would capture that awareness, and bring him back into that state of being alive.”

Isoc nodded to himself. “Would there still be a possibility that, even if you were to accomplish it, he would reject being alive?”

“Of course! I can’t say I’ve experienced myself, but being resurrected is nasty business. It involves plenty of trauma and working your body back into that alive state. The easiest way I can explain it is that Zero can be stuck in a permanent state of sleep paralysis. There’s also the possibility of thinking oneself to death as a form of suicide.”

“Would he actually do that?” Isoc furrowed his brows at Gate. Zero didn’t seem the type to commit suicide, no matter the circumstance.

“Who knows for certain. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. But if we were to program that goal into him, to fight to live, it would be completely avoided.” Gate walked over to his computer and began to type something into it. “When he wakes up he’ll probably still want to die. Death is never happy when you take something away from her, especially for the first time.”

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

“More like fool me twice, shame on you again.”

“How long is he going to be like that?”

“It could range from a second to several years, it depends on his self-preservation.”

“Even with the virus?”

“Indeed, the virus can only affect so much without completely destroying his sense of self and make him brain dead. The way I see it, it would take a couple months.” Gate typed another thing in to bring up an image of Zero’s head. “But look,” Gate pointed at a certain area of Zero’s head.

Isoc walked over to Gate and bent down a little to look at the screen. It looked like a fried circuit or even a slightly fractured board. Part of it even looked incomplete. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“An injury predating his death. It’s the part of the mind that affects memories. One of the Reploids I had the honor of building had the same issue from an accident. Not entirely fixable, but somewhat repairable. There are side effects to it.”

“Such as?”

“Hallucinations,” Gate flicked his eyes towards Isoc. “Nothing too serious, minimal at best.”

“What if you completely destroy his memory?”

“Isoc, are you questioning my ability of a simple procedure?” Gate turned to fully face the other scientist frowning. “Comparatively, Metal Shark Player’s injury was massive compared to Zero’s and he came out just fine until the board destroyed him. Last time I remembered, you completely destroyed a Reploid in your care that had a simple head injury making her brain dead.” Gate almost appeared visibly bristled at Isoc’s comment. “Question my competence again and I’ll take you off this partnership. Are we clear?”

Isoc backed down, “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent.” Gate walked over to take a vial of bassinium that was on that table Zero laid on and practically shoved it into Isoc’s hands. “Analyze this and I’ll forget your comment.” Gate made a motion with his hands as if saying ‘begon from my sight’. Isoc looked down at the vial for a moment before turning on his heels to the other room.

* * *

 

Stephen rammed a hand into a dummy’s face. Shattering the plaything on impact as her claw like fingers dug into the head and began to tear the insides of it out. She was venting. Even if she had not been around for Zero’s first death, she had been around ever since he had come back from the dead and had been a friend to him. Her other squad mates knew how to deal with the grief that they already endured. Stephen not so much. She shoved the dummy to the side throwing the stuff inside it off her hands. “That won’t be getting up anytime soon.” A blink as Stephen looked behind her seeing one of her squad mates standing at the door of the training room. “Piss you off that much, huh?”

It was Basalt. If Asard was a tree, then Basalt was a skyscraper. He was a beastloid like Asard, only instead of being modeled after a snake he was modeled after a whale, but to be fair, he looked like a cross between a whale and a shark. His hands were more like massive fins with giant claws at the end of them to imitate fingers and his tailfin was ridiculously large. He never caused problems with anyone from his personality, but the sheer massive size of his body was what always brought complaints. He was just so **big**. It made the word big seem like an understatement.

“You should have heard what it was saying,” Stephen replied looking down at the dummy. She scrunched her nose at her handiwork. Part of her almost felt bad at what she had done to it, but it didn’t matter now. Basalt began to walk towards her, leaning down slightly as a curtesy of his height and to get a better look at the dummy she had torn apart. She didn’t feel good. Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes. “Basalt, how did you deal with Zero’s death?”

Basalt took a moment to reply, he still looked down at the destroyed dummy before looking towards Stephen. “I don’t really know. I’m use to people dying so I just accepted it.” Stephen looked up to stare at Basalt with a frown. “It’s not like I don’t miss him, but nothing lasts forever.”

“Stop trying to be philosophical about this.”

“I’m not trying to be.” Stephen frowned a little harder taking her hand away from her face. Basalt only stared from the corner of his eye. “People deal with death in different ways. I’ve seen many people die that I care about, so I’ve learned how to deal with it.” Stephen’s frown turned into a small grimace and eventually she turned her head away from Basalt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Death is normal. People forget about that.” There was silence, as Basalt straightened back up to stand at his full height. “There are always people to talk to you if you need it. It wouldn’t hurt to call the counseling center.”

Stephen sighed, “I’ll think about it. I just don’t know how to get my feelings into words. I’m better at just…” she motioned to the dummy that was on the floor. “You know… acting them out.”

Basalt nodded his head, “I understand. Talking about it can be hard. It gets easier.”

“I know,” Stephen looked past Basalt to the ceiling. It wasn’t the first time someone she knew died. Someone she was close to at least. “How do you feel about his death.”

“I told you--” Stephen gave him a look. Basalt was silent for a moment before replying earnestly. “Raw.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?”

“That’s a good way to explain it.”

 


	3. Brave New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of suicide

Gate sat in a chair staring at the schematics for Zero that he created. It appeared rather simple yet it was very complex. The more complex part of the drawing laid where Zero’s body had been completely destroyed since there was little use to recreate the parts of Zero that were alive. It had followed the general aesthetic Zero had on his chest and remaining body parts, just some key differences that would make him function better. He would be improved, if only because Gate was feeling gracious since Zero would be a key player for his plans. It had taken him weeks to complete, and even if it wasn’t cause for a celebration, it did make Gate feel as if he was accomplishing something.

Gaze drifted towards the dead Zero upon the nearby table and a sigh escaped the doctor. Truth be told, there were numerous of reasons to which he was recreating Zero. One was for his DNA, the second was to make him usable, and the third was because Gate felt it a waste that such a robot would be left in the dirt to be buried and sent off to some afterlife. Whatever that afterlife was, or even if it existed. He got up from his seat at the computer to walk towards Zero and peer down at the Hunter in an odd trance.

It was odd, to say the least, to be able to look at Zero from so close. To Gate, Zero felt like an unseen legend. Where X was everywhere and the image of Reploids and the Maverick Hunters everywhere, Zero was an unseen force from behind the veil. Standing so close to Zero and seeing his lifeless form sprawled for Gate to tinker with felt almost like a sin—as if the doctor was dissecting a _god_ or some other force. Now, standing next to Zero’s dead body, Gate viewed the other as something less than a mystery, but a puzzle and something more physical rather than an imagination. All his life he had wanted to be able to solve the rubric cube that was Zero’s and X’s DNA, and here it was, presented to him on a silver platter.

He began to twirl a wire connected to Zero around his finger. With his other hand, he propped his chin upon it and leaned his elbow on the table. Gate considered Zero, more or less, a pet project. It wasn’t something he would mention to Isoc, even if the other scientist seemed vastly more interested in Zero’s body itself rather than his DNA. Gate twitched his lip as eyes settled on Zero’s face.

“Why were you so happy?” Gate murmured staring at his face. The dead one looked rather peaceful in death. It was surprising since Gate was expecting the other to look more restless. Then again, Zero had died before once, so it might be that he relished death and Gate accepted that.

Rather, Gate accepted the fact that he was ripping death away from someone that wanted it.

It wasn’t something that Gate completely agreed with, but it was his only way that he would be able to one up those that thought his ethics were wrong even if it helped people in the end. What better way than to resurrect Zero? Everyone loved _him_. “It must have been a nice death.”

With a sigh, Gate tore his fingers away from twirling and moved to caress Zero’s cheek. “You know Zero, I envy you. You have it all and yet here I am dusting off your corpse to give you a third chance at life.” Gate tipped his head to the side, “Oh. You’re such a lucky bot. You should thank me when you wake up a few years from now. I hope you do. You’ll have children and everything. Bots made from your DNA. You should be proud.” A smile appeared upon Gate’s face, “They’ll be our children. Hah! Imagine that.” The Reploid began to snicker a little as his hand left Zero’s cheek. “Well, it’s no time like the present to start repairing you.” With that said, Gate slipped the helmet off of Zero’s head to begin his slow process of repairing the other’s body.

* * *

 

“X?” Alia waved her hand in front of the other’s vacant expression. A beat passed before X came to, breaking the stare he held with a rather interesting spot on the wall and looking at her.

“Huh?” He blinked a few times before looking at her. “Oh. Sorry Alia. W-What were you saying?” X leaned forward on the table, trying to look at least a little bit interested in what Alia had said before she sighed.

“I asked on what you think about going to Area Zero with me to help collect some data.” She leaned back in her seat. “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to. I know someone else that would escort me.”

X shook his head slowly, “I wouldn’t mind going.” He placed a hand on his head, “Sorry if I’ve been a little out of it. I’m still…” he trailed off before he could finish the sentence. Alia already knew what he was going to say so there was no need to finish it. “But why are you collecting data?” He tipped his head to the side.

“I’m curious is all. You know before I joined the Maverick Hunters I use to be a scientist. I just want to preserve some specimens.” She held up her hand before X spoke, “And I already have the greenlight to do so, X. Don’t worry. It won’t be for a year anyway.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” He blinked at Alia a few times. She had never mentioned that she use to be a scientist, though X did have his suspicions on that fact with her expertise in research. It just wasn’t anything he had the time to actually point out. “So, did you use to go by Dr. Alia?”

Alia gave a laugh, “Yes. Technically I still do, but I don’t see the point in saying it anymore. It would be weird to call your navigator ‘doctor’ each time you called. Wouldn’t it?”

“A little,” X smiled. “What did you use to do as a scientist? Did you build Reploids or anything?”

“No, nothing like that. I did a lot of research in creating anti-virus programs. One of my coworkers was the one that built Reploids.” The memory of Gate was bittersweet, and part of Alia felt horrible even talking about him. “He really admired you and Zero. Always going on about your DNA. The Reploids he made were incredible,” she began to slowly frown.

X noticed the change in demeanor of his companion, but wasn’t sure about pointing it out. The topic was obviously dicey for Alia to talk about. It made him feel a little awkward. “Were you two close?”

“We were... friends. After an incident, he left the research facility we worked at. A little afterwards I joined the Maverick Hunters. I don’t know what he’s doing now, I think I heard he was working with a board of scientists studying Reploid DNA.” She tapped a finger to her chin.

“Maybe you should get into contact with him again,” X offered. “It’s been a few years, after all.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.” She bit her lip looking to the side. “It isn’t a friendship I could allow myself to fix either. Even if I could, I don’t think he would want to see me.”

“That bad?” X pressed his hand against his chin to rest on it. “I’m sorry to hear that. What was his name?”

“Dr. Gate. You may have heard of him. Some of the Reploids he made went Maverick.”

“The name does ring a bell. I think I remember one of the Mavericks… Shield Sheldon?”

Alia nodded her head solemnly. “Yes, his death was tragic.” X furrowed his brows confused, he didn’t know there was a story behind the reason of Sheldon’s Maverickism. Alia caught on to this. “I guess that face means you don’t know.”

“I only know he was killed because he had killed another Reploid in a Maverick Virus outbreak.” Alia shook her head, “There’s more to it?”

Alia sighed. “Yes. The Hunters didn’t kill him. Rather, he committed suicide because he was labeled a Maverick.” X balked. He had heard of Mavericks committing suicide to avoid being killed by the Hunters, but rarely one that had committed suicide because they were labeled a Maverick. Usually they accepted such fate and openly accepted the label or ran. But killing themselves? It wasn’t completely unheard of, but Mavericks loved their martyrdom.

“Are you sure Sheldon was a Maverick? Cases like that are rare.” He lifted his chin off his hand to lean onto the table more. “Was he mislabeled?”

“I’m not sure. But Gate showed me the report. He was very upset about it. It wasn’t the first time it happened either. I’m actually surprised they reported they he committed suicide. You know how the upper ranks are with their fame.” She waved her hand and got up from the table, “But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

X offered Alia a soft smile as she rubbed her forehead. “Duty calls?”

“I’m afraid so. But the patrol should be short,” Alia smiled back at X and placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. “I should be free afterwards. I’ll talk to you later X.” Her hand lingered a moment more before she departed leaving X with his thoughts.

* * *

 

Near a year passed. Zero’s body had slowly begun to become less of a corpse and more of a work in progress of a creation. The upper half of his body was near complete aside from the still gaping hole in the right side of his chest where the other ‘heart’ would lie. The gash was rather pronounced, but it was mostly fixed to allow easy access to replace the core that was being used elsewhere. Gate had not thought it so important to place the core within Zero’s chest, at least not until he finished analyzing the data within. The lower part of Zero’s body from his mid-section was still in shambles. Gore was the most anyone could make out of his torso, and his legs where no better off. It wasn’t anything that Gate was too worried over as the Bassinium that Gate had begun to slowly pump into Zero’s systems were filling the veins that had not been capped off to help repair Zero’s flawed memory.

Gate had just finished repairing Zero’s memory as Isoc had walked in carrying what was likely more data concerning Zero’s DNA. “Ah, Isoc. I just finished repairing Zero’s mind.” Gate patted Zero’s head softly, brushing his fingers through the other’s hair. He had become so fond of Zero lately, talking to him even if the other didn’t talk back. Zero was the only person that listened and ‘understood’ what Gate was saying and Isoc became rather wary of Gate’s intentions with Zero as time went on. “Have you news of our project?”

Isoc nodded his head, “Yes.” He handed Gate the data pad he held. “Excellent news, in fact. The data we now have on Zero is enough to begin creating Reploids from him. We can even use this data to improve Reploids.”

“Oh?” Gate almost appeared to be ignoring what Isoc was saying in favor of reading the results himself. “These readings are rather erratic, but creating a Reploid with this DNA would be outstanding. My previous creations would pale in comparison with what I can make now.”

“I would withhold creating any viruses until we get a complete analysis. But you can begin creating a schematic for your new Reploid now.” 

“Yes, I should.” Gate’s eyes flashed towards Zero and sighed giving the other a rather careful stroke. “I’m afraid I’ll have to put you on hold.” Isoc frowned at Gate’s coddling. It made him visibly uncomfortable, having some ‘relations’ with a corpse.

Part of him felt ill. “How is Zero coming along?” He tried helplessly to help Zero.

“Beautifully. Look,” he made a motion with his hand. “The upper half of his body is complete and his armor entirely.” Gate pointed towards a stand that held Zero’s complete armor repainted and rebuilt. It looked worthy to note as even Isoc walked to observe Gate’s handiwork. It was rather solid work, and even Isoc was impressed by the amount of time went into it. His gaze left to peer at Zero whose body was still a work in progress.

“You’re not going to give him synthetic flesh?” Isoc raised his eyebrow at the lack of synthetic skin on Zero. It was all just a black exoskeleton; a very bare look save for the green biolights on his body.

“I don’t see the point. He didn’t have any to begin with, so why give him it now? Besides, Humans don’t like inhuman looking things. I’m not here to please them anymore, so, why should I?” Gate placed the data pad down. “Besides, it would be too much work in the long run. I plan on making a copy of Zero.”

Isoc raised his brow. “A copy?” This was news to him. They never had agreed on making a copy of Zero.

“Yes. As a back up should the original disobey us. I have different plans should that happen, but if we play our cards right, we’ll be heroes.” Gate smiled, “We’ll be given the recognition we deserve.”

“A Plan B…” Isoc had to pause for a moment thinking about how well a plan b would play out instead of abandoning the entire project. Truthfully, he couldn’t say anything to refute Gate’s ideas. One misstep and Gate would kick him out. In the past months that he had been working with Gate, he had noticed the other doctor’s thoughts become rather erratic and centralized upon the red legend. He wasn’t even sure if he could give an honest opinion. “You will need to tell me the entire plan,” Isoc replied carefully.

“In due time. I don’t see the point in telling you if not needed. It will set us back by a year.” Which didn’t seem all too bad. They had all the time in the world and their plans thus far would take them several years to complete. What was the rush in doing it quicker?

“A year is more time to prepare.” Isoc nodded his head walking towards the corpse. He peered down into the other’s face. A sleeping beauty. “Have you begun the process of awakening Zero?”

Gate nodded his head, “Yes. I’ve begun pumping a power supply through him and repaired his head. We should at least shake him a little from his sleep. Nothing that would wake him up, but enough for him to… hm.” Gate paused furrowing his brows at Isoc.

“What’s wrong?”

“In your opinion, Isoc. would a virus work better to change Zero, or would waking him from his deep slumber to talk to him work best? I have heard from many scientists that indoctrination is a better poison than any virus.”

Isoc paused for a moment looking at Zero. Indoctrination was a tricky process, something that isn’t done so easily. “That is true, indoctrination is better since it is a more genuine than a virus. It allows the victim to be more subconscious in what they’re doing and make them believe it is more right than a parasite. Why would you want to do that? All we want is for Zero to work for us.”

Gate nodded his head, “I was thinking of making him more violent.”

“Violent?” Isoc gaped. “Why ever?”

Gate wagged his finger a few times. “Isoc, have you seen Zero’s brain? He is the perfect war machine. Sigma is an insect compared to Zero’s capabilities, if we can use that to our advantage, then no one will be able to stop us.”

“But look at what happened to Vile.” Isoc pointed out. “He was supposed to be a perfect war machine, yet he went berserk. Even Sigma couldn’t keep him on a leash.”

Gate shook his head, “Yes but Vile is different. He was a flawed system to begin with. He was created to be a simple dog for an army. As long as we keep Zero on a tight leash, we won’t have anything to fear.”

Isoc sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It isn’t my project, Gate. But I would continue to make the virus for Zero and, if you see fit, you can indoctrinate him. In my studies, propaganda works better to indoctrinate.”

“Don’t worry about that Isoc. I have already begun the process of it.”

“Talking to him in his sleep?” Gate nodded his head. “How Brave New World of you.”

* * *

 

Alia stood up from her chair giving a stretch looking at X. “I’m going to call it a night.” She looked at the clock X had in his room which lit a gentle 8:00PM in red. She didn’t know why X needed a clock since he had an internal one, but X did work differently.

“Long day?” X inquired to which Alia nodded her head.

“Very.” Her eyes swept from the clock to the object next to it. “Is that….?” She reached out to pick it up and look at it. X’s eyes followed her hand in confusion over what she had found but soon took a look of slight embarrassment. “X, where on earth did you find a floppy disc?” She looked at him holding the disc as if it was an ancient artifact. Alia knew X for collecting artifacts, but this was a little odd.

“Stephen gave it to me. The commander of 0th squad. It used to be Zero’s.” X got up from the chair to gently pluck the disc from her hands and sat back down. “I’ve been meaning to look at it but I never found the time to.” Alia gave X a look. Never found the time to or rather he never willed himself to take a gander at the disc. His gaze left her eyes and looked towards the disc he held.

It was a difficult subject to stray from. Zero was a friend to Alia, just like X, however he had only really known the hunter for a few months prior to his death. It was hard for both of them, but harder for X since he had known Zero for most of his life and had to deal with the other dying twice. She could only imagine the amount of pain that he had to endure. She began to regret ever taking notice of the disc. “You don’t have to, X. Just take it in small bites.” A smile was offered to the hunter. “You’re trying too hard to get over it, just let it happen.” X didn’t give a reply at first, and Alia bit her lip anxious for one.

He finally spoke after what felt like hours. “I know Alia,” it was a whisper. “I… I would like to be left alone.” X turned his head to the side a little trying to avoid her gaze. “Please.”

Alia nodded slowly. “Goodnight, X.”

“Goodnight.”

When he heard the door to his room close, X bit his tongue hard and snapped his eyes shut trying to keep the tears from falling. It had been a year since Zero had passed, and though the wounds have slowly healed, there were times that the universe couldn’t help but pour salt into it. He had learned from Cain that grief wasn’t gotten over. There were days that he even cried over Cain’s passing even if it had been long ago, and it helped little that now Zero joined in with him.

Truthfully, X had gone over the notes within the box that Stephen gave him. Most of them Cain wrote about Zero’s systems. Medical notes, how to take care of his body, and the like. There were other pieces of paper that had handwriting on it that X had never seen before, however. Those contained information on building Zero himself, how much bassinium was in him, designs, and many of them contained notes that Zero wrote himself. X assumed that they were similar in the way that Cain had given information on X and how to take care of himself. They were old creations after all.

X’s gaze took from the floppy disc to the floppy disc drive he had borrowed a few months ago. Still, Cain never gave him a floppy disc of all things. Light had left him holograms, he couldn’t imagine Zero’s creator leaving him floppy discs.

He put the floppy disc on his desk and sat with his hands on his lap as he silently contemplated. It wasn’t his right to see what was within, and it was a secret that X was going to allow to die with Zero. 


	4. Bipolar Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Suicide, emetophobia mention

He woke up in a car. Zero turned to look at his surroundings for a moment. Staring down he noticed that he was not outfitted with his armor but rather a full set of clothes: a grey turtle neck, jeans, and boots. Still machine. His eyes flicked to the radio, which was on and playing music. Although he couldn’t tell what type of music it was, all it played as music. Then his eyes moved to the window of the car, which was being driven on a highway through nothing. Plains of grass, dotted trees, and the occasional house. No other car was on the road. Then he turned to the driver.

It was Vile.

Like Zero he wore no armor. It was normal clothes, a t-shirt, pants, some other garments—but it was Vile without his armor and all. He looked different from what Zero remembered, his curly black hair fell to his shoulders but his gaze still held a fierce look.

Oddly enough, Zero didn’t lunge at Vile. Instead, he just sat in the passenger seat of the car looking at Vile as if looking at a friend.

Vile glanced at Zero for a moment then returned to the road. “Thought you wouldn’t be waking up, pretty boy. Surprised it took you so long.” Zero blinked at Vile, then turned to the window of the car.

“Where am I?” Zero asked.

“Well, you’re dead like me. Only you got the short end of the stick, like me.” Vile tapped a finger on the car wheel. “Sorry big boy, but life ain’t through with you yet.”

Zero was silent for a moment. “But… I’m supposed to be dead. No one needs me anymore.”

“You sure about that? What about your boyfriend?” Vile didn’t take his eyes off the road but Zero could feel his eyes on him. “You know that’s what I said. Nobody needs me, I’m fine being dead. Why be alive? Being alive sucks, you have to worry about so much shit and deal with so much shit. But I guess it isn’t God’s Plan or whatever the they say.”

“So, what you’re saying is this is limbo?”

“I guess. I mean it sure feels like it. Nobody’s here except you and me.” Vile pressed something on the radio and it played a different tune.

“No wonder no one is here.” The radio played a different tune. It was different, like it switched a song. Zero leaned forward to try to decipher the noise but all it was is just noise. “How do I die?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Vile shrugged and gave a yawn. “Tried crashing the car. Didn’t work. Jumping out didn’t either. I gave up after a while. You’re free to try for yourself, I wouldn’t mind seeing you kill yourself a couple of times.” He gave a wide grin and looked at Zero, “Or you can sit tight and wait for whatever hell is waiting for you.”

“Funny you would try to commit suicide.”

“But you’re thinking about doing it, aren’t you?” Zero didn’t reply. “That’s what I thought.”

Silence prevailed aside from the hum of the car and the noise from the radio. Slowly, Zero reached his hand over to grab Vile’s shoulder. He was real, but Vile didn’t move. “Why a car? Why you?”

It was Vile’s turn to be silent before looking just a little bit away from Zero. “Don’t ask me. Ask yourself. This isn’t real, is it? I’m just here because you want me to be here driving this car.” Zero’s hand started to become a part of Vile. Zero accepted it. “You’re running from yourself, from everything. I don’t blame you. I hate myself too, but not as much as you.” Vile took his hands off the steering wheel, the car kept driving straight. “You don’t want to go back because you’re scared about dying again. You want to die, but you don’t want to go through with it. Stop being so damn attached to things that you’ll never have.” Vile’s hands moved to grab Zero’s face, and Zero didn’t move.

“I hate you.”

“But I am you.”                                                                    

* * *

 

X stared out of the window of the van he was in to admire the scenery. At least, what was left of it. The cleanup crew had done well stabilize the area, yet found that there was little else they could do with the radiation and decided that, after a year and a half of work, to close it off. They had dubbed it ‘Area Zero’ and only allowed those with special permission through. The radiation, to most Reploids, was less of a threat and more of a mere annoyance. Though, even if the area had been closed off, it wasn’t protected ground. Stragglers and Reploid bandits made their home within or in the surrounding area of Area Zero, making it a difficult area to do research in if one pleased. Through months of neglect, it turned into a dog eat dog world.

One Hunter had explained to X that if someone took Mad Max, took out the cars, replaced the humans with Reploids, and put it in Area Zero, that it would perfectly sum up the growing situation. X thought the Hunter was kidding, but upon arriving to Area Zero he had quickly retracted the statement. He had promised to escort Alia to within the confines of Area Zero to help her collect samples for research purposes on her pet project, yet the both of them were quickly beginning to feel that their welcome was already overstayed, even if they had only set a foot within the area. Even if the Maverick Hunters had said that Area Zero was closed off, the truth was it was only an automated system that kept people out, not actual Hunters that protected the perimeter. Hunters were needed elsewhere on Earth to help make it more livable after the crash, so Area Zero was of little priority.

The place made X paranoid, more paranoid that Alia. He couldn’t be sure if a Reploid was a Maverick or if they were just a Reploid that had to turn to living within the confines of Area Zero. It was a rather horrible place, and X did well to steer their expedition away from the warning signs of decapitated Reploid heads on pikes and robotic gore strewn about as if they were Christmas lights. Most of the inhabitants left them be, but the entire place set X on edge, even after he secured the perimeter that Alia was to collect samples from. They were beginning to regret not bringing more people with, but part of Alia knew to keep their presence on a down low to avoid attention.

It almost worked. There were only two incidents in which they were bothered.

Alia had been collecting samples from a recently deceased animal when she had made a small gasp of surprise. It was the type of gasps laced with fear over something other than one was working on and it sent X to his feet in a matter of seconds. His buster was at the ready in a blink, but confusion soon took over him when he heard Alia begin to exclaim, “Gate!”

X didn’t let his guard down, but his gaze left Alia to another Reploid that looked about as shocked as he was staring at the both of them. A chance encounter? Gate shifted uncomfortably and nervously though he tried desperately to hide it beneath a cool demeanor and casual smirk.

“Ah, Alia. I wasn’t expecting you… here.” His gaze shifted from Alia to the surrounding rubble.

“Neither were we,” Alia responded looking towards X as he moved towards the two of them, buster down but still active. He wasn’t going to take any chances, even if Gate was someone that Alia trusted. “Why are you here? Is it for a new project you’re working on?” She noted how he was donning the typical lab coat.

“Hm?” Gate looked in confusion at her for a moment before realizing what she had asked. “Oh!” He shook his head, “No. I come here to think is all.” He glanced towards X almost nervously.

Alia seemed to catch on but made no comment upon it. X interjected, “This is an odd place to come to think.” He made a gesture to the area. No one in their right mind would come here to just think about the world.

Gate tutted X. “Not if you know the locale,” he waved his finger about. “The world is about knowing people, and I have quite a few ‘friends’ here.” A devious smile made its way upon Gate’s lips as he fell into his comfortable speech. Though he seemed just a little on edge, the Reploid was trying to hide his glee at meeting X. How unfortunate that he managed to capture his little friend. “They’re not all bad people, they just need help.”

“Help?” Alia inquired.

He intertwined his fingers behind his back and gave a short sigh, “Yes. They were abandoned by humans and the Hunters to rebuild the world. Which I’m not complaining since I do believe the Earth should be paid more mind to than us, but don’t you think they deserve more?” He scrunched his nose, “But I guess I’m bordering Maverick talk, aren’t I?”

Alia frowned and Gate attempted to feign an innocent smile. “You haven’t changed much.”

“And you have?” Gate snapped. “I think you’ve it backwards.”

Alia sighed. Part of her chalked the rather hostile demeanor to the environment they were in, but she knew better than to think that. X shifted uncomfortably unsure whether he should say anything or leave them to their own conversation. From the change in Gate’s voice, however, he figured it took a turn for the worst. “I’m sorry,” she confessed as her gaze took downward.

“Too late for that.” He brushed some dirt off of his chest as an act of refinement in Alia’s presence. “Well, it has been a nice reunion, but I’m afraid I must part.” He shifted to give a small bow of his head to Alia and began to turn before staring at X. “Perhaps another time, X.” There was a flash of a smile before he bowed his head slightly and returned into the chaotic field of the Eurasia colony.

Alia felt bitter, and X didn’t have a chance to ask her if she was ok. As soon as Gate was out of view she busied herself to her own devices and X eventually returned to his perch atop of a rock.

* * *

 

A small shuffle of metal sent X to his feet with his arm already transformed into a buster. He hadn’t begun to charge it, but the action made Alia spring up from her crouching position near terrified. A long pause ensued before X shouted. “Come out, slowly.” Nothing happened until a Reploid slid out from behind the rubble with their arms up staring at the two of them almost lifeless. The Reploid in question looked in shambles. Tattered armor, painted symbols upon it, among other things. It was eerie to say the least. X wasn’t about to let his guard down, rather he tensed further. “What do you want?” He didn’t want to shoot to kill, but in their situation, in this dog eat dog world, he would have to.

The Reploid pointed at something Alia was holding. “That’s mine.” Alia looked down at what she held, which was a rather simple object looked of no use to anyone. “I want it back.” He held his hand up, palm faced out and began walking towards her.

“Stop!” X took a step forward, still pointing the buster at him. “Don’t move.” If X had the capability to sweat, he would have been drenched. The Reploid did stop and look at X as if he was an idiot.

“But its mine!” he yelled in response stomping his feet.

“I understand,” X spoke slowly. “We’ll give it back to you. Alia?” He glanced to Alia who looked petrified. “Give me the object,” he held his hand out to her while still looking at the other Reploid. Alia complied and handed it to X rather quickly and took a step back. He began to walk towards the Reploid who began to shake his head rather furiously. Alia and X exchanged a rather quick confused glance before staring at the Reploid. “This is what you wanted, right?” The Reploid shook his head again.

“No, not that. That.” The Reploid actually pointed at Alia. It quickly dawned upon X that this dog eat dog world was quite literally a dog eat dog world. The thought near made him want to throw up.

There was only one situation that could solve this. “Alia?”

Alia almost jumped when X said her name. “Y-Yes, X?”

“How many of them are there?”

A thick silence held in the air before Alia replied backing up to X. “I can see ten, but I can sense there’s more.”

X was motionless before he shifted slightly again, preparing himself to sprint. “How good are you at running?”

“I managed to outrun Zero once.” Well, outthink him was a better word. It was in a course set up, more or less, in the same fashion as this. Only without the cannibals. “Should I start?”

“Not yet. Wait for my signal.” Alia was about to inquire what the signal was before X let a rather hasty charge shot out at the Reploid nearest to them. It didn’t hit, the intention wasn’t to hit, however the noise made Alia immediately sprint off towards the direction of the van they drove in. X, meanwhile, was left in the dust. He had to recover from the moment recoil of the shot and slide out of small area they had set their temporary camp.

This time, they didn’t care much about the warning signs around Area Zero. Merely, the sprinted straight through the rubble. Once or twice they had stepped into a grave of Reploid parts, bumping into other Reploids, throwing down rubble from Eurasia, and just trying to make those that they were running from hell. Alia had arrived at the van first, which hadn’t been touched since their arrival to her surprise. In her panicked state, it took her several times to get the engine to turn on. Her hands were shaking almost uncontrollably, and it took only a few more times after X slammed the door shut for the car to start. She wasted no time in putting the car in reverse and making a hasty stage exit to drive off in the wind.

A few minutes passed before Alia let out a large gasp of air leaning on the steering wheel. “Being chased by cannibals is something I never want to go through ever again.”

X slouched in his seat leaning his head back, “Me either.” He cringed looking down at his arm at a bite mark one of the Reploids gave him as he was trying to run from the chaos.

“Those Hunters really weren’t kidding when they said that Area Zero was a living Mad Max.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If I’d known it was that bad I would have never dragged you into this, X.”

“Uh-huh.” They were silent for a few moments before X glanced at Alia and unclenched his fist. He hadn’t realized that he brought the thing that Alia had given X before their marathon. “I um, got us a souvenir.”

Alia glanced at what X held up before shaking her head in a huff of a laugh. “Well, at least I have something to analyze.” Something was bothering her, and it wasn’t the cannibals.

“Are you ok?” Silence. “Is it about Gate?” Her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “Are you still thinking about what he said?”

She shook her head. “Part of it is.” X looked at her expectantly. “I don’t know. I expected him to be different but not different like that. His demeanor felt so different, it almost felt vicious.”

“Almost… Maverick-like?” X raised his brow at her.

“I don’t want to call it that, but yes.” She avoided X’s look and tried to keep her eyes on the road. “I blame myself for it,” she confessed. X wanted to inquire further upon it but decided not to. It was one of those things for her to open on her own time so he turned his eyes out the window once more look at the desert. Only a few moments later he leaned his head onto the glass and began to doze off into hibernation.

* * *

 

Gate stormed back into the lab flustered. Of all the people he didn’t want to see, it had to be Alia. It brought up memories, extremely raw memories, from his mind and he couldn’t help but hold his head over the computer keyboard trying to shake it from his head. It was a human feeling, a human ailment that made him want to bang his head against a wall because of how terribly he felt. It was a flood of emotions he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

“Stupid woman,” he hissed as he looked up from his hands and towards the monitor. “Thinking sorry is going to change a thing.” Alia’s words made Gate extremely upset, and Gate wasn’t even sure of himself to calm down in a timely manner.

Then he looked towards Zero.

He blinked once or twice before moving towards the corpse. Rage was burning in his soul and yet the closer he walked towards Zero the clearer his thoughts became. Perhaps it was the fixation upon fixing the bot that calmed Gate, or maybe because thinking about work just made everything feel better.

Whatever it was, Gate had one hand on Zero’s forehead as he stared down at the deceased.

“Nobody understands me, Zero.” Gate frowned. “But you do, you understand what it’s like to be used.” Which was ironic since Gate planned to use Zero for his own purposes, but at least Gate could relate to Zero on some level. Part of him laughed at how backwards this was, talking about being used to someone who was about to be strung along like a doll. A puppet. “To be betrayed.” The scientist almost thought he saw Zero grimace, but it might have been a trick of light. Regardless, Gate took it as a sign, and he smiled down at his project. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

And he turned to work on their child.

* * *

 

“Ass.” Driftwood spoke.

“That ain’t nice,” Asard replied.

“Ok, how about **dumbass**?” they said it with a smile this time.

“Both of you, stop.” Stephen frowned at the two of them as X walked in. X opened his mouth to speak but Stephen stopped him by raising her hand. “Let me guess: Asard beat up another rookie?” X shook his head. “Oh, that’s surprising. What’s up then?”

“Can you stop assumin’ that whenever anyone walks in here that they’re here to complain about me?” Asard grumbled holding Driftwood’s gun just out of their reach.

“Maybe Miss Commander would stop assuming it if you stop doing it,” Driftwood jumped again to try to grab the gun from Asard’s hands.

“Hm. Nah.” Stephen shot Asard a look when he gave that reply. X gave an awkward cough. The scene wasn’t unusual. Asard’s bullying had gotten a little more severe since Zero’s death. Which was something no one appreciated from the snakeloid and it annoyed everyone to no avail, so much so that Stephen threatened the other to take him off the team. The look that Asard received seemed to have been a threatening one, one that screamed ‘do what you’re told or so help me I’ll submit those papers to Signas to get you reassigned right now’ since seconds later Asard gave Driftwood their gun and sulked away.

“Still bad?” X asked with a hint of pity.

“Bad isn’t even the start of it. You know I was mostly kidding about getting him reassigned if he kept acting like he is but now I’m seriously considering it.” She looked towards Driftwood, “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Driftwood shook their head, “Yeah. No, the secret will die with me.” They winked before running out of the training room behind Asard. “Bye, bye.”

Stephen gave a sigh and shook her head after the door slid shut. “You wanna be the new commander of 0th squad? Please, I’ll trade you for 17th.”

X laughed, “I think that’s even more than I could chew.”

“Ugh, sometimes it makes me wonder how Zero dealt with us. Don’t get me wrong, the squad isn’t that bad, but **Jesus** sometimes I want to just…” she made a motion with her hands that was similar to choking. “They work so well together on a mission but take them out on R &R and I just can’t do it. Maybe a night in Area Zero will knock some sense into them.” X cringed. “Oh, ah, I forgot you were actually in Area Zero. How was that by the way?”

“That’s actually what I came here to discuss,” X replied. Stephen nodded her head and began towards the door out of the training center. X followed.

“You and a hell of a lot more people.” Stephen sighed. “Ok, what is it this time? An occult? Mavericks?”

“Cannibals,” X replied bitterly. “But I didn’t know that Area Zero was something everyone came to you for.”

“Yeah, big man thinks that cause 0th squad is special forces that everything in Area Zero is my jurisdiction. Which it isn’t, by the way, that has to do with the POTUS since Area Zero is within America and POTUS just asked the Maverick Hunters to shut the area down.” She made more hand motions, “Everyone thinks that Area Zero involves the Maverick Hunters and only the Maverick Hunters, then they point fingers at Signas and subsequently me since 0th squad apparently is supposed to mop up the mess of Eurasia.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Very. I don’t know what you wanted to talk to me about with Area Zero in mind, but you’re not the first person to submit their complaint. Even Signas is starting to feel sorry for me and told me that he’s thinking about making a squad just for Area Zero. Heh, too bad squad number zero is already taken.” She scratched her nose, “But in all seriousness—What did you want to tell me?”

“Just that there was a problem but I guess you already know about it.” X blinked at Stephen almost embarrassed. He hadn’t known that Area Zero was already that big of a problem, it almost sounded as if it was a national security risk by the way she talked about it. “Has anyone done anything to fix the problem?”

“Well, ‘fix’ is very subjective.” She air quoted fix and everything. “I can’t tell you the classified stuff but they’ve tried sending us in there once or twice. Wasn’t much we could do but weed out some of the bigger groups that formed but it only made room for new ones. I thought we got rid of the cannibals though.” She rubbed her chin, “They must be new.” X scrunched his nose up at Stephen’s words. "How did that go?”

X looked down at his arm, “I got bit by one.” He brandished the covering on his arm. The medical ward was full with other problems so he thought to check in later to get it fixed. “How _does_ a Reploid become a cannibal? It usually isn’t a function that we can eat.”

Stephen shook her head, “You really wanna know? It’s kind of gross.” X thought about it for a moment but before he could decline learning about it she continued. “It really isn’t eating other Reploids that they care about but the act of it. They uh… they puke up their guts after their done or they stuff their mouths so much that it just falls out. It’s really nasty. Poor Driftwood fainted when he saw it. Turns out he has emetophobia.”

“That’s one way to find out,” X commented feeling a slight wave of disgust.

“No kidding!” Stephen laughed bitterly taking a closer look at the wound on X’s arm. “Why the hell were you in Area Zero anyway? No one goes there anymore, even scientists abandoned that god-awful place.”

“Alia wanted to collect samples for her research,” he replied rubbing his arm. “Alia is attempting to research some anti-virus ‘vaccines’ for us Hunters to use.” Stephen nodded her head and crossed her arms stopping short of a turn.

“Next time, she should ask us to escort her. Don’t think badly of it X! But we’ve spent more time in that place than anyone in the Maverick Hunters. I don’t think Signas would mind a joint operation with some scientists and 0th squad. You should tell him that,” she began to wave him off. “I have to go, patrol planning and all that stuff. I’ll talk to you later, X.”

She turned to walk off towards her office before X could get a goodbye through. He didn’t bother to yell one after her, even if one might have put her in good spirits. He began to feel bad for bothering her about Area Zero, she already seemed stressed enough as it was. So, it was with a huff that X turned towards his own office to work on his own papers.

For some reason, he felt a weight of loneliness on his shoulders.

* * *

 

“You seem less cheery today.” Isoc set down a few metals next to Gate’s new project. Another Reploid that would help in their plans to recreate the world for Reploids. Gate hadn’t named him yet, but he already had begun to throw around names. “Have you come to a road block on your endeavors?” He began to walk towards Gate who was sitting at a computer with his head in his hands.

He waved his hand towards Isoc. “No, no, not that. Just personal matters.” Gate looked at the resources that Isoc had brought in and made a small gesture towards the Reploid he was working on. “I have thought of a name for him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. High Maximus. High Max for short.”

Isoc paused for a moment, “It reminds me a little of a name from a particular series from the 1980s.” He stroked his chin in thought trying to recall the name.

“Oh, you know about the series?” Gate offered Isoc a smile. “I’m a rather small fan, it helps pass the time when waiting for readings.”

“I have only heard it in passing,” Isoc defended.

“Of course,” Gate replied getting up from his seat to move past High Max and towards Zero’s corpse. “He is almost ready to be awakened. After I finish High Max I’m going to begin to wake him up.”

Isoc nodded, “How has he been taking the power supply? He should have reacted to it a little.”

“Just a little. I think I might have seen him cringe. Probably in pain.” He stroked Zero’s cheek, the action never failed to creep Isoc out. “How are the readings?”

“Almost complete.” Isoc intertwined his fingers behind his back and looked at Gate. “We’re missing some key elements from the DNA, but it should finish soon. The string of code is more complicated than the rest, however it should be through by the end of the year. Then we should be able to work on the virus.” Isoc made a small cough to indicate that Gate was beginning to creep him out. Luckily Gate took it as a sign and walked away from Zero. Isoc, instead, stood next to the corpse and looked down at the bot.

“Ah, I wouldn’t stand so close to him Isoc he--” The deceased flung their arms out in an attempt to grab the other’s neck. Isoc jumped back with a small yell and Gate gave a laugh. He _laughed_ at Isoc. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Are you sure he **isn’t** alive?” Isoc exclaimed moving from Zero towards High Max as if the incomplete Reploid would save him.

“Very sure.” Gate walked towards Zero to place him gently back on the metal slab. “Zero has background systems, fail safes. If there is even a small power supply then he automatically attacks those he deems as threats.” Isoc frowned at Gate. “When I was repairing his head I made sure to make it so he doesn’t attack me while I work on him. Wouldn’t want to get a broken neck.”

Isoc began fixing his lab coat, “His creator must have built him very carefully then.”

“Hardly. Many parts of Zero are incomplete or mere prototypes.”

“Do you plan to complete them?”

“Barely, I want to meddle but I don’t want to destroy Zero’s entire system.” Gate scratched his chin, “Just enough to make his system run smoother. I’ll attempt it at the copy I’m making.” They both looked towards the area Gate created for the copy of Zero.

“Have you a name for the copy besides MKII?”

“No, not yet. I was thinking after the virus.” He looked towards Isoc, “So he’ll be yours to name.”

“Nightmare.”

“How cliché.”

Isoc laughed, “Perhaps. But for what the original Zero must endure, it’s fitting.”

Gate looked at Isoc, “Having second thoughts?”

“No, no. But you must have some pity for someone who’s so willing to die to only be brought back to life.” There was silence. “I only hope that in this life he might find some peace.”

Gate was silent for a few moments and looked towards Zero, “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

“That much is only true for humans.”

“How lucky they are.”

Isoc shook his head. “No, how lucky **we** are. How unlucky Zero is.”

* * *

 

X sat in his chair and looked at the photo of Zero, Cain, and himself. He made a photocopy for himself to put in a frame so he could admire without having to open the photo album. It never failed to make him terribly upset but he found that each time he looked at it the less upset it made him. Which wasn’t to say that he didn’t miss the two of them, but he did sometimes cry himself to sleep. The grieving process for him was horrible but he found as time passed it had gotten somewhat better. Even if that better was just a little.

A therapist did diagnose him with depression, but that was old news. He had depression for a very long time and it was just now more prevalent without Zero to be there to just _be with him_. X found himself sleeping his days away if he wasn’t working or just being uninterested in things he used to enjoy. It made him rather bitter at the fact that he couldn’t get over it, but his therapist had told him it was a process.

Sometimes X wondered how Zero would deal with it. Then he had to remind himself that he wasn’t Zero and Zero wasn’t here anymore. Which would cause him to become upset and feel empty. Sometimes it would make him think to go see Cain to make him feel better, then he would remember that Cain wasn’t here anymore and it caused X to spiral further into depression and hurt.

He couldn’t help the fact that he was so emotional. He couldn’t help that Zero was the only person that X could sit next to and Zero could already know what was wrong or what X was so excited about. One person had mentioned to make more friends, but it wasn’t the same.

Which was the exact reason why he was staring at the photo on his desk.

Part of him was almost uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he felt so useless even if it wasn’t his fault that he felt the way he was. X just felt absolutely awful about everything, and it wasn’t as if he could take pills. Humans were lucky in that they could take something to help mend the pain, a Reploid just had to deal with it.

But X knew this wasn’t something that one could take pills for, even if _this_ depression was different from his _other_ depression. He tried to help mend the wounds by spending time with his friends or going on outings with his squad that didn’t involve Hunts or patrols. It worked for a little while, at least until the giddiness wore off and he was back to square one. It was a process, he learned, an excruciatingly slow process that X had to learn to deal with.

Sleep was a horrible mechanism he used to escape from his problems, and eventually that began to not work. Nightmares began to fill his sleep and now he was constantly running on low energy. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how Zero managed to constantly run on just a few meager hours of sleep. He knew the not-so-recently deceased was bothered by constant nightmares, often skipping precious sleep to avoid them (or knocking sneaking into X’s room to wake him up to help mend his paranoia). But now he could barely figure out how Zero managed to keep himself together.

He bit his tongue. Hard.

The thought sent X taking a deep breath and holding his chest.

Keeping Zero together… what a cruel joke for his mind to play on him in this state. He looked towards the saber that Zero left behind for X and thought back to his dying words. Sometimes he could feel the oil on his fingers, Zero’s limp body against X’s, the way his guts were falling out of his body. It was almost the same as the first time, but somehow the second time was just so much worse than the first. X shook his head and turned to his recharge pod looking for an escape from the sudden memories that flooded in. Even if nightmares would plague him, he could deal with them later. Right now, he just wanted to get the image and the feeling out of his mind.

He wondered how Zero was doing, wherever he was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone who got the reference a certain 1980s series mentioned.


	5. The Delightful and Ever-Novel Pleasure of a Useless Occupation

“Who are you?” X was drifting. Was this a nightmare? A vivid dream? It seemed to real. He wasn’t one to experience nightmares that often, most were simple, but this felt strange. No reply was given but there was almost a static noise coming from everywhere. The feeling was strange.

Was this how Zero felt when talking about his nightmares? It was so strange.

“Who are you?” he repeated. The static got louder but something in the darkness moved. Can darkness move? Did the thing want X to ask it something more meaningful? X was silent for a moment. “Am I succumbing to isolation?”

“Yes,” it answered.

“Then who am I?” **Who am I?**

“You are….” **I am….**

He woke up.

* * *

 

Zero woke up sitting against a rock. Everything felt the same. The empty scenery, noises that didn’t make sense, the clear sky. The only difference from the last time was the fact that, instead of being inside a car, he was at some archeological dig. It looked as if the people that had been digging had been digging for quite a while, but it appeared as if years had passed since anyone had ever touched the dig site. Still, the feeling of not being wholly there was present, and it did make him feel almost upset about being dead. Even if it were limbo, it didn’t feel like _anything_. Being dead was all that Zero wanted, so why would anyone want to trifle with something that had no intention with coming back alive; and, if someone so chose to bring back the husk of his body back, what would they gain from an old robot like himself?

He hoped that the person would eventually realize what they’re doing and end their project.

So, he sat there looking out in the distance upon the mountain range he had woken up upon. The dirt was dry and had a yellow and red tinge to it. No smells rose into him and Zero began to slowly rise from his sitting position to get a better look at the scenery. Taking a few steps towards the abandoned dig site, Zero noticed that he was in full armor. It was strange for him to even notice such a miniscule detail since he wore his armor more often than civilian clothes.

There was a moment that Zero stood there thinking. War systems were offline and the whisper in the back of his head was silent. The silence was killing him, and he felt the impulse to kill or fight anything even if the system that was specifically made to destroy was ‘off’. Part of him felt as if it didn’t exist to begin with in this void, but that couldn’t be. If he was dead, then the entirety of Zero would come with him. For some reason, Zero felt _empty_.

“Zero.” The voice caught Zero off guard and he spun to face whoever said it. Without the normal system to run checks to see if anything was stalking him or about to kill him he was taken completely off guard. He began to realize how this place made him feel so vulnerable. But it wasn’t _physically_ , it was mentally.

Dr. Cain was standing in front of him in his archeological gear. The doctor was younger, as Zero remembered him when he first woke up. In fact, almost the exact way that Zero woke up to see Cain. Only instead of the usual lab coat he was wearing what he would find him in when working with X. “You’re alive.”

“Of course I’m not,” Cain replied almost offended. Right, this was limbo, or death, or whatever this place was supposed to be called. No one here was alive. Still, the way Cain said it so matter of fact made Zero give the other a look. Cain replied with a laugh, “Nothing about you has changed.”

Zero wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not, not that he would ask. “Why are you here?”

“The same reason you are,” Cain frowned at Zero.

“Because you’re being resurrected?”

“No. Like the both of us, no one would appreciate us being back alive. Well, I’m sure the government wouldn’t mind me as much as you seeing as how I helped give advice on how to deal with the Maverick Wars. Bah! But they never listened to me.” Zero flinched at the ‘insult’. But that’s how Cain was, point blank and upfront. It was one of the reasons why X and, grudgingly, Zero liked him so much. Zero liked how blunt the other was in comparison to the empty words that bureaucrats always had. It calmed his nerves. “But they have tried to get rid of me or shut me up quite a few times. At least they put you on a leash.”

“Charming,” Zero groaned. “I don’t even know why I’m here.” Was it another mind trick like with what happened with Vile? Making him feel guilty and spiral him further into self-hatred wasn’t exactly on his to do list. He just wanted to die.

“Of course you do, you just don’t realize it yet.” Cain turned around and motioned for Zero to follow. He stepped to the side of Cain and kept an eye on him. “I lied about no one appreciating us being back. I know at least one person that would be happy for us to come back.”

It was X. He was talking about X. “So my reason for being resurrected is because of X?”

Cain rolled his eyes and almost smacked his head onto his face. “No! I don’t think anyone would want to revive us for that. There isn’t one good Samaritan out there that wouldn’t want to use us for being _us_. Your fighting capabilities, for example, is the only reason why anyone wants you back.”

“Someone wants to try to use me again?” Zero couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s stupid, no one can use me.”

“Yes they can. Remember last time?” Cain tapped his finger against Zero’s head, “That module they used made you Maverick. Of course, now something simple like that wouldn’t have any effect on you since I’ve worked on you, but that doesn’t mean you’re impenetrable.” Zero frowned at Cain and smacked the human’s hand away from him. “I know you like to think you’re impenetrable but you’re _not_.” Cain began to walk again and Zero followed whilst brushing the top of his helmet as if brushing off dust.

“I’ve died twice and another person is trying to bring me back to life so I like to believe that I am impenetrable.”

“Physically, but not mentally. No offence but someone could break your ‘brain’ in half and you’d still be at your normal functioning level.” Zero opened his mouth to speak but Cain beat him to it, “Yes. That was an insult.”

They walked for a while longer before Zero began, “If I’m that obsolete, then what use am I?”

Cain scoffed. “Existential crisis now?”

“It wouldn’t be new,” Zero murmured.

“Yes. I know. You’ve always had a knack of wondering what your purpose is in life. More so than X. Sometimes I wonder if I should have spent more time discussing things with you than him.” Cain yawned.

“You know I couldn’t do that.” The system. It was…

“Yes, yes.” Cain waved his hand about silencing Zero before he could speak more. “That little program of yours that can tell you how to kill me in less than a nanosecond. You weren’t made to discuss philosophy or what it means to be human and all those fun questions. X was always a better conversational partner anyway.”

“His suffering circuit you mean.”

“Yes and no. He worries too much, and you don’t worry enough. Or rather you can’t worry.”

“No, it’s just that I can’t _care_. People just point me in the right direction and I just kill. My system takes over and all I do is just make sure that I don’t harm any humans.” Zero stopped walking to look out into the desert.

Cain stopped and looked back towards Zero. “Is it still active?”

Zero shook his head. “No. I can’t hear anything. I’m used to it always being there analyzing everything and feeding me information.” He raised his hands up to stare at them, “X says that his suffering circuit is quiet. I never understood how a mind could be so silent, but now that my system is offline I understand. I don’t like it.”

Cain stroked his beard, “You realize X’s suffering circuit is the complete opposite of your battle system.”

“I know.” It was strange, it was as if Zero’s battle system was made just to counter the suffering circuit that Light made. The creation of it felt more out of spite than it did out of necessity. Even the name sounded more ‘robot’ than it did for the name that X’s creator gave. He frowned.

“So, now that you’re not swamped with notifications on how to kill me, how does having a silent mind feel?” Cain walked towards Zero to take a closer look at how his face twisted and turned trying to get a proper word for how he felt.

It only took a few seconds to find the right words to explain how it felt to have a silent mind. “I don’t feel like the same person. I feel more Reploid than machine.”

“How does that feel?”

“Horrible.”

“Horrible,” Cain repeated. “I always took you for the type that would hate being human.” He gave Zero a somewhat bitter smile, “How does feeling horrible about being a Reploid make you feel?”

Zero looked confused for a moment. “Isn’t that redundant?”

“Not at all, you must feel a _little_ different. What scientist would I be if I didn’t ask so many questions?” Cain laughed at Zero’s confused face. It was always a pleasure when seeing Zero make such faces. It wasn’t in Zero to think too much into those questions and yet here he was trying to rationalize what his battle system would have given as an answer. Cain knew what the other might have replied already: _I don’t know!!!_

“Why should I feel anything for not wanting to be human?” Zero gave a casual shrug. They were beginning to tread into some rather dangerous territory that might have driven Zero further into a dissociative state. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. He was dead.

“You shouldn’t!” Cain almost seemed happy at Zero’s revelation. “I’ve been saying this for years! People shouldn’t force robots to want to feel human. Why do you think the Maverick Wars began? Besides the obvious, of course. The true seed was humans making robots feel inadequate for not being human. If that’s the case, then why build robots at all? There’s no point.” He clapped his hands gleefully. “For a war machine you did pretty well to past the ‘test’. You’re wiser than half the people in the government. Too bad you’re dead.” Somehow Zero felt like a pet project. Even in limbo Cain was the same.

“Is there a prize?” Zero asked somewhat jokingly and yet not quite.

Cain, of course, shook his head. “Unless resurrection is a viable prize, I’m afraid not. Besides, we both know to let sleeping dogs lie.”

* * *

 

“How does he look?” Gate wiped his hands on a towel while Isoc looked over Zero’s now complete body. It only took three years, but now that he was finished he almost looked as if he had never been destroyed. Save for the minor ‘scars’ on his body where the original body use to be with the new, he looked perfect. Gate was nearly brimming with happiness.

“Nearly perfect,” Isoc stayed a foot back from the table. The finished product almost made him want to celebrate. Pop champagne and dance around the table. Unfortunately, Reploids didn’t have the capabilities to digest liquids or foods, merely purge them from their system. Besides, Gate wouldn’t be interested in such celebration. “And our virus?”

“Done.” Gate smiled at Isoc. “I just need to activate his system and let the virus work its magic. It should take effect while he’s figuring out what to do with his life.”

“An existential crisis as a distraction,” Isoc mused.

“He’ll be too busy thinking about what to do with himself to pay attention to the virus. He may take notice of if eventually, but by then it would already be too late and he’ll be forced to stay alive.” The pity had long since left the two doctors since they’ve began the project. After a while, it was just something that was just blocked out of someone’s mind. “I was about to call you so I can begin the process, but now that you’re here I think we should begin.” Isoc nodded his head in reply.

Gate walked over to Zero’s head. All sorts of wires were connected to Zero’s neck hooked up to every which computer and monitor. To the simple person, it might have looked a mess, but to the both of them the view was an art. Gate couldn’t contain his excitement as nimble fingers pressed this button and that. This was the moment they were waiting for, the precipice of glory.

Another moment later and a silence rose into the room. The dim light that Gate called his ‘home’ lit up in greens as Zero’s biolights lit up into a dim light. The right side of his body held a greyer green than the left since Gate had not yet placed his other heart within the other’s body. It was still being used and studied so that he could continue experimenting on it. Yet now with the Zero being risen, there would be no use for that simple heart. Gate smiled as he saw Zero’s face twitch and limbs move as if someone had bothered him during a deep sleep.

Cringing, frowning, gasps. These were the noises of someone coming back alive. Zero didn’t speak, but those subtle movements were enough to speak words. A moment later the corpse seemed less than a corpse but appeared more like a sleeping child. He shifted more, becoming more comfortable in the then coffin and the now bed, then drifted back into nothing.

He wasn’t alive, not yet, but almost.

“Now we wait,” Gate whispered. The smile grew wider. “The virus has now permeated his system and its only up to Zero to wake himself up.” Gate left Zero’s body and towards a computer and began to type things in. “Now I can focus my attention on my other projects.”

Isoc didn’t walk any closer to Zero, opting to keep his distance. The way that Zero was laying in ‘bed’ almost appeared as if he were ready to reach out and snap another person’s neck. When the body twitched Isoc steeled himself for the worst. Nothing happened, of course, but an uncomfortable feeling was beginning to rise in the crowded room. “Perhaps you should strap him down. I’ve heard that shadowplay sometimes induces sleepwalking.” Isoc stared warily towards Zero.

“If you think that, then be my guest in doing it.” Gate looked towards Isoc. “His body is still rather crippled.” Gate tapped on the section where Zero’s heart would be, “Not having this should keep him down, at least until he starts to wake up. Strapping him down would only induce panic in his systems and I don’t want him to wake up in a crazed state.”

“You act as if he’s a porcelain doll.”

“He is, in a way.” Gate mused, “I think of him more of a child. Even if he is as old as X, his mind would be reborn. He isn’t a Reploid like you and me, he’s just a machine with the ability to think like a Reploid. I almost feel sorry for him.” Gate walked around to Isoc and stood with his hands behind his back, “We’ll give him a special spot in the world we’re making for ourselves.”

Isoc brushed his beard and looked off into space. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Gate laughed a little, “No. But its the best one we have.”

* * *

 

X woke up almost in shock. His head smacked the glass of his recharge pod and it even sent his battle protocol in action thinking that an alarm set off but there was nothing but silence. He laid back into the confines of the pod rubbing his head and issuing the command for the glass to slide open so he can sit upright. Hands rubbed his forehead and he lightly tugged at his short brown hair trying to figure out what had happened.

What a strange dream! Lucid dreaming wasn’t something that happened to him often, if ever, so what was the point of it? Most of his dreams revolved around Dr. Light or the traumatic experiences of his hunts. It was just something that he would tell Zero. Getting up he got dressed in decent clothes and walked out of his room. An occasional Hunter passed by but they gave a simple nod to X and X gave one in return with a smile. The base was silent save for the light taps against the floor and doors opening and closing.  X didn’t bother to check the time, but assuming how there was lack of activity going on in the barracks section of the Hunters it must have been around 2AM.

He laughed. It was around these times that Zero would knock on his door to share the nightmares that he dreamt of sometimes. Those weren’t often, but if the dream plagued Zero enough then it was something to be expected.

A turned corner and he began towards Zero’s room. Strange, the closer he got the more dread he felt. Maybe it was telling Zero the dream and the embarrassment that welled inside of him for talking about such a simple dream in comparison to the horrible ones that Zero often spoke of.

He stopped in front of Zero’s door. Raised his hand and stopped himself from knocking just as his knuckles were about to hit the metal frame of the door. Tears began to roll down X’s face. He had forgotten. Three years its been and X had, in his semi-aware state, had walked all the way to Zero’s room with the intention of having a normal conversation with the probably still awake friend. Maybe he might have thought that he wouldn’t have done this in the three years that Zero had been gone but he wasn’t and he was standing in front of some now random Reploid’s room crying. A few seconds later and he made an almost mad dash to his room and shut the door shut with a hiss and lock.

Muffled sobs filled the silent halls of the Maverick Hunter HQ. Sometimes he wished that he wasn’t the only Reploid with the capability to cry. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so embarrassed to be so choked up on something he felt should have been over years ago. Why was this death the hardest? Was it because X knew Zero better? Was it because of Zero’s dying words? He wasn’t sure anymore. Why did it matter anyway? Sometimes he wished that the pain would go away and he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

Maybe hunting wasn’t the right thing for him anymore. With seeing his friend perish to hunting twice, what reason should he fight? All it gave was an endless cycle of death and hatred, there had to be better ways to stop the Maverickism. He wondered if this is how Zero felt after killing Iris. What was he fighting for? Peace. That’s what he told himself. But what use is fighting for peace when one used a buster in one hand and the saber his friend built for war once used? This wasn’t right anymore.

“Zero…” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do anymore… I’ve been fighting for so long; it doesn’t feel right anymore. I feel you watching over me. Tell me: is this right?”

**It feels weird, doesn’t it? For what reason do we continue violence if we are both machine? For humans, I know, but why? I wonder what makes a machine less than a human. X… do you know? Maybe when we find the answer we can both rest. I don’t see it happening soon. I guess for us the fighting never stops, even in death I’m still fighting to be allowed to have my ‘soul’ escape this existence. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I don’t think anything is right anymore. I feel my system taking over me and my personality is escaping me. The self is fading away and the only thing left is the horrible thing that I was programed to do. I’m sorry, X. I’ve only brought you pain. Please forgive me.**

“I miss you.”

**I miss you.**


	6. Fate of a Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicide, emetophobia

He was looking at the ceiling when he woke from the eternal slumber. A perpetual stain of oil, bent metal, and the smallest noise of something shifting somewhere in the room. Zero couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from, but the infernal racket was enough for him to return back to death and sleep more. So he laid there, strapped to whatever this medical table was, shifting his head side to side, but not quite able to look down or focus on anything. The mind was still in a jumble, and although he felt awake it was as if he was stumbling blindly into the darkness and tripping over every little thing. He tried moving his hands, but he couldn’t feel anything nor able to tell if he was actually moving them. So Zero focused on other things: such as why he was in this odd room. What he could tell from this place was that there was scrap metal everywhere. Although he wished dearly that this was another dream he laid still upon the metallic bed knowing it was something much more.

But still the robot hoped that it was a dream, that this was another torture that his spirit was putting him through in order to finally reach heaven—or hell. It felt different, this world. No matter how much he hoped this wasn’t reality, it felt that it was. For a moment he tried to scream, to cry out into the world and tell everyone that he was back and wanted to die, but still he laid upon the bed not able to speak. Was it everything trying to get back online? Or was it that his soul had finally escaped him and left merely a husk, a carrier of a disease.

Part of him hoped that it was the latter, he didn’t want to be alive.

Zero finally noticed that the noise stopped, replaced by careful footsteps that grew louder and closer. They were so calculated, as if trying not to startle a wounded animal. Still he stared at the ceiling, trying not to move (which wasn’t hard since Zero figured he couldn’t move). Another moment a light shined in his eye, but he couldn’t quite make out anything again. The brightness felt like heaven, and it moved from side to side but he could not follow its holy trail. It was if his mind was dead, staring plainly at the ceiling hoping for death to take him. Oh, he wouldn’t mind if a sword just impaled him there. At least then he’d be dead, at least for the meanwhile until someone else decided to bring him back. But still he hoped that this was another dream. It had to be.

There was another noise. It was a voice this time. The words blend together so easily that he couldn’t make anything out. There was another voice, it sounded shocked, and still he couldn’t make out anything. His body was still, so still on the metal table. Perhaps if he didn’t move they would think he was dead and throw him into the recycling bin to be reused for parts or researched upon for something. Either way he hoped they kill him.

Oh, there. He moved his head. But still he couldn’t discern anything. He felt his fingers move, the clawed digits digging into his palm. The tongue in his mouth moved, pressed against his teeth to urge words to form and allow him to scream something horrible. Colors swarmed his mind, but no object could really be form. Still he would not breath. There were more voices, more talking, but he ignored them in favor of dreaming of a death that never would touch his body. Oh please! Just kill me!

Then he urged himself to look down for colors of green to swarm his vision. Blacks and greys soon appeared. Colors formed images to which those images formed thoughts. He saw his chest. The cavity was pried opened, bassinium was swarming forth in his chest. He saw his two hearts beating but one missing, replaced by a tube to feign a heart. The tube moved like a heartbeat, moving in rhythm with his other ones. Tubes, pipes, metal, and things were filling his chest. Had he a weaker stomach he would have thrown up all over his body and passed out on the bed but he found himself fixed onto his chest strewn open like a bird’s feathers.

It was beautiful.

How disgusting.

“Can you hear me?” Yes, now he could. He looked towards the voice. A Reploid with purple armor, clothed in scientist gear. He looked expectantly at Zero, smiling as if he was cradling the world in his arms. Zero opened his mouth to reply, but the other scientist shushed him before he could speak anything discernable. “Hush, don’t speak now. You’re still waking up. Take your time now, there is no hurry.”

Zero closed his mouth, but he wanted to scream the words to kill him. For him to be slaughtered upon this table where he was laid out like an experiment and finally be put to rest. He wanted to tell the other Reploid to take out everything in his cavity and set him on fire so he could end this vicious cycle of death and rebirth, but nothing came out. It wasn’t the case where Zero could not speak, he knew fully well he could just by the small grunt he made when he looked back at the ceiling. Something stopped him from saying those words, stopped him from talking about death. He wanted to die, that much he knew for certain, but he couldn’t easily voice those words. Something stopped him, something in his head. Zero knew something was wrong just by the very fact he couldn’t voice his undying need for death. He had done it before as a joke, but now even the thought of jokingly saying that made him repulsed and shamed.

The scientist cradled his hand upon Zero’s cheek. Zero felt repulsed but couldn’t move away from him. His skin burned with hatred by the very touch of this scientist. “Don’t worry now, Zero.” That sickly sweet tone made him want to vomit all over his body and hope that the acid would be enough to melt himself away. “You’ll be safe with me.”

_Get away._

“No one will hurt you anymore.”

_Don’t touch me._

“And we’ll rebuild a new world…”

_You make me sick._

 “…a perfect world….”

_Choke on your tongue._

“….for us Reploids….”

* * *

 

Stephen read over the report she was given multiple times. Her eyes half open and chin upon her hand. It wasn’t anything particularly new. Just something she had been informed of before again and again. It was about those cannibalistic Reploids and machines. They were beginning to grow in numbers as did the case of multiple ‘special class’ Mavericks in Area Zero. She hummed as she tapped the keyboard. It had become apparent that after Eurasia crashed that many new Mavericks began to appear in the near post apocalyptical world. Atypical Mavericks that didn’t so much care about the destruction of Humanity nor the idea that they were better than Humans but wanted to be left to their own devices to do what they pleased. Which was fine, said Maverick Hunter HQ. Let the Reploids do whatever they wanted to do as long as they didn’t want to kill Humans or break the law.

Everyone initially agreed that this was fine too. Let Reploids do what they want since one could say that this is a new turn of the world. Laws will be remade, society renewed, everything pieced together to make a new utopia. What they weren’t counting on was the fact that these Reploids and machines were dabbling in things that were extremely illegal. Not the typical murder because they wanted to, but rather eating other Reploids and Humans so they can become Human. In more extreme cases: suicide for the sake of suicide, killing to appease their ‘gods’, and capturing beastloids to hunt them down to emulate the same thrill humans got when they went to hunt.

Stephen had to admit, it was all very interesting to see Reploids turn this new leaf. It was same in that respect that humans did the very same thing sometimes. So it wasn’t surprising when they found Humans who clawed their way to the surface to join these bands of Reploids only to be found eaten or crucified by other Reploids.

Perhaps they found their calling in that death.

Stephen wrote down a few notes onto her computer as she closed the report to read another one on these special class Mavericks. What fun to hear that the special forces was turning into a circle to deal only with those special class Mavericks. One might have assumed that Special Forces Unit meant Special Class Maverick Unit.

She really needed to put word in with Signas to create a unit just for those Mavericks. Her eyes lazily drifted to a message that drifted its way into her box. A click and she read those tiring words of a mission brief about special class Mavericks. Without much of a second thought she sent her unit word to come in for the brief, turned off the computer, and laid back in her chair.

Alexander looked up from his computer towards Stephen. She smiled at his raised brow, “Alexander. Off the record, but when I get married to a cute gal I’m gonna quit.”

Alexander rolled his eyes in return. “Quit?” he returned to his computer and began to type down things.

“Yeah, quit. I’m gonna marry her, find a house someplace nice, live off retirement, and spend the rest of my life with her.” Alexander didn’t answer her, but she knew he was listening.

“With your anger you should be a security guard.” He spoke as quick as he wrote. To the point, not feigning any emotion. Stephen frowned at the cold shoulder, but it was expected from him.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Also Maverick Hunters don’t really have retirement plans.”

“I’m well aware.”

“They expect you to die before you leave---“

“Alexander.” Alexander looked towards Stephen who was looking at him with a rather stern face. “Let me enjoy this one thing. Please.” Alexander turned pale, looked back at the computer and began to type once again. Stephen turned back to the computer, silent for a moment contemplating what he said. They expect you to die before you leave. As horrible as it sounded, it was the truth. Maverick Hunters didn’t retire. When they did retire is when they die or when they were forced to step down because they screwed themselves over. She looked back at Alexander. “You know we have another mission.”

“About the special class Mavericks, yes I’m aware.” Alexander typed for a little before stopping to look at Stephen. “Are you trying to imply something?”

Stephen shook her head. “No, I’m not. But I wanted to make sure you knew.” But she already knew his answer.

“We all got the message,” Alexander returned to typing. “It was not necessary to send a reminder to everyone.”

“I know that, but I have a bad feeling about this mission in particular.” Alexander was silent, but she knew he was listening to him. Maybe she should shut up. There was no need to keep talking about something. Especially for a commander to confide something like this to her peers. Before she used to confide in Zero about her worries of a mission, now there was no one but herself to do that. Stephen turned back to the computer screen and sigh. The meeting wasn’t until 4 hours, and there was plenty of time to kill. She stood to walk out the door. Perhaps training would ease her mind off the battlefield and whatever she might see in that godforsaken desert.

* * *

 

“Asard.” He heard the soft voice of one of the twins. The giant snake Reploid turned towards the raptor like machines. It was Sister. Her metal a darker shade of red unlike the pink tone that her brother had. Though he considered it funny that he considered the twins sibling to him as they were born of the same factory. The emblem of the company that chose to give them life seared onto their plating and code.

“What’s up?” the snake turned its massive body towards Sister. She was built for speed, for scouting, but in exchange for the simple task the company gave her and Brother they took her sense of will. Unlike Asard, Sister and Brother were only machines. They had no emotion, no feelings, he wasn’t even sure if they could feel pain. It wasn’t something he thought about, often times he refused to think about it, but what made him, a former Maverick, more worthy of emotion than his fellow kin?

“You have not checked your message.” Sister replied simply. “We have a meeting.”

Asard rolled his eyes. “Stop checkin my messages. I’m not a baby for y’ to cradle.”

The raptor did not move its head nor did she seem offended by how Asard lashed at her. “The request came from Stephen herself. She knew that you come late to briefings and wishes you to turn in early.” Asard rolled his eyes and groaned in pain. “Sister is to accompany you so you come early.”

“Then what if you’re late?” he didn’t care if Sister was late. It didn’t matter if Sister was late anyway. As long as Brother was there at the meeting then Sister would get the information that she needed. The benefit of having no mind to call their own was that they shared their consciences between each other. It was what made them so desirable for scouting. Expensive, but desirable. He pitied the Twin. Neither Sister nor Brother was ever able to think for themselves. They were both just a machine.

“Sister is connected to Brother. Should I am unable to attend Brother will be provided the necessary information to give to Sister.” Sister appeared impatient, but maybe that was his imagination playing his head. They couldn’t feel emotion. “You know this information as we are from the same company.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Asard waved his hand. “I deleted most that information though. Took up too much space so I didn’t see the point of keeping it.”

“That is against company protocol.”

This again. Asard rolled his eyes. “In case you didn’t notice: I don’t do protocol. I’m a Reploid, not some machine.”

Sister didn’t reply for a moment. Asard eyed her wondering what was taking so long for the rebuttal but she changed the subject. “The meeting is going to begin soon. Please follow.” Sister turned and began to walk at an even calculated pace towards the meeting leaving Asard dumbfounded. How strange. It was almost as if Sister was offended by Asard’s comment. But it couldn’t be. It was only a machine, a machine couldn’t be offended by something that simple. Then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Twin was able to ascend that limit. But there was little time to waste. He gathered himself and began towards the meeting following after Sister.

* * *

 

Signas rounded the table, staring at the group of Reploids that were all apart of 0th Unit. All of which were colorful characters ranging from whale beastloids to average looking Reploids donning strange android armor as any Maverick Hunter. Their personalities colorful and some dull, yet all with single goals: live to serve. For a brief moment he wondered what compelled Zero to bring these characters into his circle, to kill with them when some hated to kill or even had no emotion. He would never gain that answer. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. He gave a sigh as he finished the brief, the details laid out in front of them on the table. Markers strewn about, black ink pressing against files, maps being written on, and conversation being spoken. “Now then, is there any questions before you prepare for your mission?”

Driftwood raised their hand. “How classified is this mission?”

“Define classified.”

“Can we know the contents of what we’re escorting. Just seems a tiny bit strange we were asked to escort a truck to the middle of nowhere not even on a map and make sure no special class Mavericks eat up the scientists on the way there.” Driftwood glanced at Stephen who was nodding her head.

“I agree,” she spoke. “I’d like to know what I’m sending my team into and what its worth.”

It was a respectable question, one that Signas wasn’t able to answer. “I’m afraid even I don’t know the answer to that question. I was handed down this request from the government themselves. I cannot say which one, but it is very classified.” Signas stared at each of the Reploids for a moment.

Basalt pressed one of his massive claws onto a sheet of paper, “Is that the purpose of the bogey mission?”

“Yes. You are to memorize that mission file. If anyone should ask about your mission then you have that to fall back on.” He didn’t personally write it, but rather he was given the papers to give to the unit for them to memorize. He doubt that anyone would go into detail about the mission with anyone but the government in question specifically issued them ‘just in case’. Unfortunately for Signas, even if the entire thing did seem fishy, there wasn’t anything that he could possibly do to stop it. He was the commander of the Maverick Hunters, and the humans were above him.

It made him even a little angry at this fact.

Asard thumbed through the file, “This is starting to sound more like a suicide mission than it is a simple escort mission.”

“I can assure you it isn’t.”

“Awww… I was hoping that it would be one.” Driftwood groaned. Signas was never comfortable with that cynicism that the unit always bred. But they were the best of the best, so there was little that he could possibly do to mend that. Nonetheless, their keenness to die and kill was rather disturbing at times.

“If that is all the questions that you have, you’re all dismissed.” Driftwood practically booked it out of the chair to leave the room. Basalt was slower to move to leave, the others took their slow time to gather things and head for the door. Stephen was always the one to stay behind, to triple check the details, reread each word as if it was a code, and to groan about the worries she had over the unit. He walked over to her as she mulled over all the papers. “Something is troubling you.”

“The mission. It seems too easy for something so tight lipped. Especially from a government that I don’t even know which one it is.” Signas didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to for Stephen to understand that he held the same sentiments. It was just a shame that they had to do any job that slid under their doors.

“Try not to worry too much about it. Everything will be fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will be. Probably just anxiety.” She closed her folder and began towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the final preparations.”

Signas nodded his head as the door slid shut and he was left with the papers all over the table. He wished he could say what was in that truck. It was classified. To say what was in those wretched packages could mean deactivation. Of course, he did not know, but that part of him knew it was something better left never to escort. Hopefully, just hopefully, the mission would fail and the unit would all return home in one piece and the truck would never arrive. A mistake, that is what he hoped for.

He looked towards Brother and Sister who stood waiting for command.

A simple mistake was what he wished for.


	7. Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A black blade kisses her sister. Her cheek bleeds as tears fall from her eyes. As she holds the blade closer to her body it cuts deeper into her. She missed her sister. Missed her laugh. All she could feel was pain.

Sister laid at the back of the truck. Brother stands beside her. The Twin unit is silent as the truck filled with Reploids prepare for the escort. Driftwood tears apart a gun to clean and put back together, lining data chips together in a case beside themselves to store information about special class Mavericks for future studies. No one asked them to do it, but they wanted to anyway because they thought it would be fun. Their hands stroke the chips as if they were gold. They smile to themselves at the prospect of gaining new data on the special class Mavericks to use for their own purposes. Driftwood clicks together the gun, checking the magazine for bullets, then checking the ammunition in the other case.

Sister turned her gaze elsewhere, towards a different team member. She sees Asard laid about like a dog basking in the sunlight near Basalt who is sitting uncomfortably. He talks about tearing the Mavericks apart, talks about how useless this escort mission is. “I don’t understand,” Asard says with a yawn. “Why do we have to go on this mission when we don’t know what the hell we’re escorting.” His tail swishes back and forth, the electricity inside of him buzzes.

“Zip it.” Stephen turned her head from in front of the truck towards Asard. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say about the mission. I don’t like it either, and neither does Signas. But we have to.” There is a sickening silence as Asard looks towards Stephen. “You can complain about the mission _after_ we finish it.” Asard groaned with dismay as he laid his head down on the floor of the truck.

He looked like a dog.

Brother looked elsewhere. His eyes peering into the other Reploids on his team. His eyes took to Basalt who sat silent out of them all. The whale’s face made no indication of fear, but anticipation. They had heard his plights for death all before. Did he want to die on this mission? It wouldn’t be the first that he prayed for death while traveling to a mission. The look in his eyes spelled this, but Brother said nothing as they stood at the back of the truck. Their heads did not move, their eyes seemed blank as they look on. That is what a machine was built for. For no emotion; to only judge, and to wait their orders.

“Stephen,” Driftwood hummed on their lips as they reorganized their chips. “Remind me again why we have to get driven to the spot.” They picked a chip from their case and observed it for damage. It wasn’t the first nor last time they would do it. The endless cycle of their actions as if checking once or one hundred times would do nothing to ease their imperfections.

Sister saw Stephen scratch at her forehead, uncomfortable over the helmet they were wearing. The matte brown with horns that looked almost beetle like irritated her. The Twins wondered why she didn’t exchange her armor for something else. The machines recalled that her original creator made this armor for her, that she felt attachment to it. Why?

“Because the location is so classified we can’t be teleported there.” She tapped at her arm, looking at the hologram that appeared showing a map of the location. “If we’re teleported on location then it would appear in the transporter files on base. Deleting it would still leave remnant data.” She looked at the driver, Alexander, who was focused intently on the endless desert road. “You’re a hacker so you should know how that all works, Driftwood.”

Driftwood finally closed the data case, boredom finally catching on. “Oh, I know. But I think this is so tedious. I just wanna get this over with.” They leaned back against the wall of the truck. Their hand began to play with the tips of their brown hair looking at nothing in particular. “Not because I think this mission is a joke. But I just want to kill these Mavericks and go home for the night.”

Stephen laughed. Brother wondered why she would laugh at something like that. “You always say that.” She pressed her head against the back of the car seat, staring at the truck ceiling. “I’m curious Driftwood.” She closed her eyes. “Do you want to die on this mission or do you want to kill as many Mavericks as you want?”

Basalt shifted uncomfortably as Driftwood thought about that for a moment. “Not sure,” they replied. “If I die they’d just bring me back through backup data anyway. I’m too special to be wasted and let die. Hey, maybe if I do kick the bucket they’ll give me matching limbs!” They smiled at Stephen who didn’t move. “What about you?”

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.” Stephen murmured as she turned her head away from them to look out the window. There wasn’t anything special to look at. All there was to look at was an endless desert, remnant metal from the crash of Eurasia, and the occasional plant that somehow found life.

Both siblings were perplexed at the conversation. Wasn’t this Maverick talk? It went against one of the laws of robotics. Brother noted this in his mind, and it spanned to Sister through their network. If it was Maverick talk they would never say anything in their report about it. Absolutely not. It went against protocol but this was something they knew to bend the rules for a little bit. The machine transcended their boundaries. At least for just this once.

_Brother—Is this normal?_

_Sister—I have heard it from them all the time._

_Brother—I have too._

_Sister—This is what separates us from Reploids. A machine cannot think like that._

_Brother—I wonder what it feels to think that._

_Sister—I do not._

Their wordless conversation stopped as Alexander finally spoke from the silent driving. “You guys better start getting ready. We’re almost at the escort.” Asard groaned as he shifted on the floor. His snake-like body moved against the metal, his body slithered against it, the green metal making such a weird noise against the steel. He looked like a snake writhing in pain.

“Already?” he complained.

“Yes.” Alexander reaffirmed. “I don’t have to tell you twice.” Asard hissed, to which Basalt glared at him.

“I’m up. I’m up!” He began to get on his feet. The Reploids began to shuffle around. Each taking a weapon while Sister got up from her lazing position. The raptors began their initialization. Their animalistic nature taking over. Their claws tapped against the metal, their bodies were still even against the truck that bumped against rocks and uneven ground. Asard did not take this action programmed into him. The animalistic nature their company that they programmed he had deleted off his personality. He thought it was too insulting for a company to force upon an animalistic nature onto him. The Twin unit did not understand.

As the truck came to a stop Driftwood made way for the door. Both Twin stepped out of the way as they unlocked the back door and opened the way towards the desert. They jumped out, kicking up some dirt and looked around to the front of the truck. Asard slithered out after Driftwood and eventually Sister and Brother jumped from the truck onto the ground. Basalt had a harder time getting out of the cramped space, his body nearly dragging out the truck as he stretched his body and wiggled his way out. He stretched his body as the Reploids made their way towards the front of the truck where Stephen approached a group of Reploids besides a semi-truck.

There stood a human garbed in desert clothes. Neither Twin could make out from which the clothing was from. The human smoked a cigarette, watching the Reploids approach them. Her hand was firm on the black gun that was strapped around her neck ready to shoot. From her side was another Reploid. She too was human in nature, but the armor and hair gave away the fact she wasn’t a human. Her armor was blue and gold, her helmet looking like a priest to a temple. Her long white hair was braided, reaching all the way down to her knees. In her hand she held a sword longer than herself. It was thin and black yet glimmered red in the sunlight. What loomed behind them was another beastloid. A spinosaurus who was taller than Basalt and its sail was a solar panel. Its teeth were everywhere and it looked like it had no proper armor but just metal strewn together to make some type of beastly monster. Asard groaned.

“I know that groan anywhere.” Driftwood hummed. “Let me guess, that dinosaur is from your flock?” They smiled as Asard hissed with displeasure. Sister took a closer look at the spinosaurus. The way she held herself was strange, almost unnatural. It looked to be modeled off one of the old versions of the Spinosaurus, one of the original types. The one seen in that _Jurassic Park_ movie in particular. It was indeed a bestloid from the same company that both Asard and the Twin unit had come from.

“Unfortunately. Must be some new model. Never seen ‘em.” He glared at the spinosaurus that glared back.

“Be nice,” Stephen chided as she approached the human. “Are you apart of the escort? I wasn’t expecting to see a human out here.”

The human nodded and flicked the cigarette from her hand, blowing out smoke. “Yeah. I’m a part of the escort along with these guys.” She motioned to the other two Reploids by her.

“You don’t look military.” Stephen mused. “Mercenary?”

“Mercenary.” The human replied with a nod. “We know these parts better than most. My name is Aleph, that dinosaur is Queen Elizabeth and our scout is Marx.” Aleph shrugged towards the other two.

“Pleasure.” Stephen nodded towards the others as her team gathered near them. “I’m Stephen, the commander of the squad. Alexander the Great is my second in command. Then we have Asard, Basalt, Driftwood, and our Twin unit.” She pointed at each of the Reploid as she spoke their name. “Since introductions are out of the way, I guess you know where we’re supposed to be heading.”

“Damn, they didn’t tell you?” Aleph stared. Stephen shook her head. “We’re supposed to be heading towards Area Zero.” She pointed away from the road where the semi-truck was pointed towards. “There’s a facility there that the package has to get to. Lately there’s been a bunch of those weird Mavericks running around so it _might_ be dangerous but it _might_ not be.” Stephen looked towards the direction, her fingers tapping on her arm to come up with a map. She scanned it for a moment trying to discern where the facility might be.

Asard sighed, “So. Do you know what’s in there? Nukes? Zombies?” He stared at the semi-truck curiously. The trailer looked like it came out of an _X-Files_ episode.

“Something way above my paygrade,” Aleph shrugged. “I’m not paid to ask questions and I don’t think you are either.” She opened one her pockets to procure another cigarette. Driftwood laughed at the way she shut Asard down.

“Let’s not get into a cat fight already,” Stephen moved between the two. “We’ll take point. Our truck is built for heavy rounds and it’ll protect it against anything the special class Mavericks throw at us.”

Aleph nodded at the plan. “I can do that. Queen Elizabeth is gonna be behind us watching our six. She keeps up pretty well and won’t have any trouble if we stay around 30. Its slow but safer.” Stephen nodded her head.

“Right. We’ll turn this truck around and head out. Gas up if you need to. Driftwood give them the com pass so we can radio each other.” Stephen turned around as Driftwood pushed towards the three giving them information.

“Back in there already?” Asard complained as he trudged back to the truck and even Basalt looked even a little upset for having to be smooshed in there. “I don’t want to be stuck in there again,” he moaned.

Stephen sighed, “If you don’t want to be in the truck then sit on the roof. I’m sure you’ll get a nice tan to even out your skin.”

“Ugh! Forget it!”

Brother turned away to join them. Sister stayed staring at the mercenaries. She paused for a moment, looking at the three as Driftwood brushed passed her. She turned to follow her companion, her head staring at the group as she turned.

“Hey,” the voice was unfamiliar. It was light as a feather and felt so pleasing to hear. Sister stopped and to see Marx walk forward. The blade touched her cheek, it almost looked as if it was going to cut into her. “You’re a Twin unit.”

What did the other want? “This unit is designated Sister, a part of the Twin model. Yes.”

Marx nodded her head as Aleph turned away to get behind the wheel of the semi-truck. “I didn’t know they still used your model.” Sister didn’t understand. “They discontinued your model.”

“Yes.” Sister agreed. “The newer Twin models were going Maverick so had to be discontinued. However, we Twin units still stay within the Maverick Hunters for our scouting capabilities.”

 The Reploid was silent as she pressed the sword closer to her face. It cut her and she began to bleed. “Maverick. That’s what they told you? How strange.” Marx turned away and headed for the semi-truck leaving Sister to stand in the desert alone.

_Brother—Sister, we are waiting for you._

_Sister—Of course. I am coming, Brother._

She decided to keep what Marx told her with her. For a moment the network buzzed and glitched as she kept this information to herself away from her Brother. Turning around, she left.

 

* * *

 

 

The road was long and deserted. The map that Aleph had in the semi-truck was accurate to the dot and it made the road even longer ahead of them. It almost looked like the truck was barely moving as they rode along in the car, the AC blasting in her face as she heard Queen Elizabeth’s footsteps from behind her as the truck roared along. Marx sat next to her, holding her sword in her hands as if it were the most holy thing she had to keep for herself. A towel was wrapped around it as if not having it soaked in blood angered it. Aleph drew in her cigarette as she stared at the back of the truck in front of her. The Maverick Hunter symbol wasn’t plastered on it, probably to draw attention away from them.

“Can you put that out?” Marx asked as she clutched the sword closer to her. Her palm cutting into the blade. Oil leaking out. “My sister doesn’t like it.” Aleph looked towards the Reploid. She took the cigarette from her mouth and put it out in the ashtray.

“Tell her I said sorry.” Aleph looked back at the way in front of her as Marx nodded her head and dragged her fingers down the flat end of the sword. They were silent for a moment more before Aleph glanced at Marx. “You know, Marx. We’ve known each other for a pretty long time. I don’t think you ever introduced me to your sister.” Marx was silent as she kept cleaning the blade. It was if she was having a conversation with the sword, the black metal talking to her as she sat.

She set the blade down on her lap, both her hands laid on the sword as she kept looking forward. Sometimes she forgot the other was blind. “Her name is Immoral Delight.” Marx put her hand out towards Aleph. “Give me your hand.” Aleph looked from the window to Marx open hand. A moment passed before she pried her hand away from the wheel to lay her hand in the Reploid’s. Marx guided the human’s hand to Immoral Delight. Aleph could feel the life beating through the blade. Was that a heartbeat? Aleph drew back her hand. Fear pulsed through her. _What the hell?_ “Did you hear her?”

God, she didn’t know what she heard. It was like in some unknown language. It was too raw. “Yeah, I heard her alright.” She placed her hand back on the wheel, unnerved. She didn’t know what to say. Your sister freaks me out? “Was your sister always some sword?” Marx didn’t reply, and chose to stay silent. Wrong question then. “How long have you—”

“She wasn’t always a sword.” Marx spoke shaking her head with a small smile. “She was like you once. Human.” Aleph stole a glance at Marx and the blade on her lap. Aleph tapped her fingers on the wheel, staring at the truck in front of her. “Her creator named her Immoral Delight.” This was strange. They both stared at the truck in front of them.

“Marx you are the most interesting Reploid I’ve ever met.” She laughed a little nervously. “More interesting than Queen Elizabeth.” Marx nodded her head at the compliment.

“Thank you, Commander. That’s the kindest thing anyone has said about me.” A smile appeared on her face. Aleph smiled in turn at Marx, her eyes uneasy on the blade for a moment before looking towards the truck in front of them again. A moment later they felt an impact. The semi-truck smashed against the truck in front of them, their bodies feeling the impact. Marx held the blade close to her body and Aleph felt the impact of metal on metal. The belt did its best to save her from flying out the window and her chest hurt from the tension. Then there was black.

 

* * *

 

 

Asard smashed a hole through the metal truck. The door was stuck and he scrambled to get out of that burning hole of flame. He hit his head against the wall, the armor above his eyes taking the brute of the pain. It hurt, but he needed to get out, needed to save himself from death.

He didn’t want to die.

“Basalt, help me!” He punched the metal making a dent in it. His tail swished back and forth as Basalt groaned. They flipped several times. Ammunition and guns were everywhere. Driftwood’s precious data chips were lost and broken. “Help me get out of here!” He was panicking.

_I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!_

Basalt moved. “Move.” He uttered. He drew his fin back then pushed forward. His claws tore through the metal like a hot knife through butter. He tore, the noise rousing Dirftwood and the others from their dazed mind. Brother wiggled trying to get out from under the hacker, and Sister struggled against the net against her body. Asard spilled out of the truck first, his body running for a moment away from the truck then turned back to see everyone else struggle out of the metal box. His tail swished back and forth, electricity coursing through him as he spotted the semi-truck’s front that was smashed. His red eyes scanned the horizon. The Mavericks walking towards them slowly. They looked like zombies, the stain of blood and oil were all over their mouths and lips.

Cannibals.

He wanted to rip them to shreds. To tear into their bodies for making him panic. But he had a mission, to protect the cargo. He ran towards the semi-truck seeing Queen Elizabeth run towards the Mavericks to keep them at bay. He peered into the window that was cracked and saw Aleph rousing herself as Marx attempted to open the door to the semi-truck finding it jammed. Asard didn’t think and pried the door from its hinges. The squeal of metal tore through the desert and Marx slid herself out the door as Aleph was still trying to get her bearings.

“What happened?” She held the blade close to herself, hugging it as if it were a blanket. It gleamed red in the sun, it looked as if blood was dripping down the blade

“We’re under attack. Fuckers flipped our truck.” He looked back into the semi-truck finding that Aleph was crawling outside the car on their end. She poked her head out the car and looked at Asard, her forehead bleeding and she still looked a tad dazed.

“I didn’t think these types of Mavericks were that clever.” Aleph began to ready her gun, looking at the cannibals from her spot. She squinted into the desert, the sun’s heat making it hard to make out anything too far.

“They’re not,” Alexander stumbled near, the grand shield almost as big as his body digging into the dirt as he set it down. “They’re too obsessed with eating to plan anything this complex.”

Aleph snorted as her rifle made a click. Asard’s tail swished back and forth, his red eyes staring at Queen Elizabeth who was ravaging the cannibals. She seemed to be doing alright for those Reploids that tried to find purchase with their teeth onto her metal. Stephen took pot shots at them while Basalt impaled others with his enlarged claws. Swiping at the dirt and bodies so they were flung far into the desert.

Marx dragged her hand down the blade, grasping the hilt while the other gripped the blade and prepared for battle. “There’s more. There.” She pointed away from the ongoing battle and their small party drew their eyes towards the flipped truck. Driftwood was just beginning to climb out of the car, wounded, and even their eyes trailed towards where they were looking.

Horrified the hacker scrambled out as Brother jumped from the floor of the truck to the edge of the hole and perched there like a bird. From their gaze they saw some miniature army of Reploids. Their zombified looks and the way they dragged themselves across the desert was disgusting. Led by them was some type of shark beastloid. He shimmered shades of blue and purple in the sunlight. In his hand he dragged along some anchor with a full tooth smile on his face.

Driftwood stood near Asard, clutching at the other’s upper thigh. “Stephen,” he radioed in. “Stephen there’s big trouble. We have more company.” Driftwood scrambled to take out his pistol.

“ _What?_ ” they all heard over the communication array. Her voice was even but didn’t hide the small noise of panic in her voice. “ _There’s more of these cannibals?_ ”

Driftwood was silent for a moment as he stared at the approaching army of zombies. “More like zombies.”

Stephen was silent for a moment. They heard the shooting from behind where they were staring. The metal being torn and the roars that Queen Elizabeth screamed as she bit into the bodies. The noise of dust flying everywhere as Basalt’s fins hit the ground and Brother’s tapping. “ _I see them._ _Hold out for as long as you can. Our side has our own army to deal with. I’m going to contact Command._ ” Driftwood stood silent for a moment as he looked over at their small party. Aleph turned back into the semi-truck, dragging out a sniper rifle from the side of the car and began to set herself up.

“Have your scouting unit look up ahead. See how close it can get and take a headcount.” Brother took off. His feet hitting the ground hard as he ran towards the army of zombies. They watched as he pressed forward and as Aleph began to set up the rifle on the ground. “Driftwood take point on this rifle. I want you taking out as many as you can get.” Driftwood nodded and began to set next to Aleph. “Since you two are the more physical fighters stay close. We’ll use you as last resort.”

Asard didn’t say anything but watched Brother draw near the army. He was too quick for them to get near. They tripped and fell as they tried to run after Brother but found themselves not getting anywhere close to him as he ran back and forth. “ _Brother has counted more Mavericks than we can withstand. Survivability rate at 20.56%._ ”

Driftwood took a shot at one of the Mavericks. Its head split open and fell to the ground. “20 is better than none.” Driftwood smiled as it took aim and shot another round into the zombies. Another head burst open and he cocked a smile but it faded as the Mavericks he had previously shot got up from the ground.

Aleph looked shocked at the resurrected Maverick. “ _Probability at 0.01%_ ” Brother’s voice rang through their ears as they then heard an awful scream from the other team. Alexander’s head shot up as it was Stephen’s voice. Her screams rang through the desert. They heard metal being torn from her body. Her second in command ran to her location and Driftwood grimaced. They had to hold out. Their eyes took to the zombie army.

“What’s so damn important about this cargo if it isn’t even going to get to its destination.” Asard murmured as Driftwood took a shot at another zombie.

“Quit wasting ammunition,” Aleph shouted as Driftwood took another shot.

Driftwood was still for a moment as he set the rifle to the side. Asard twitched as Brother ran back and forth from the army. They were waiting to die. “I want to know what the hell it is that we’re escorting. If I’m gonna die I want to know.” He turned around and made his way to the end of the semi-truck. Aleph didn’t do anything to stop him but Driftwood followed.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a Maverick,” Aleph called out as the zombies came closer. It was a slow death. They were so close. Almost within range for Marx to release her blade to cut into everyone’s skin.

“You’re not the first,” Asard shouted back as he made it to the cargo. The door was sealed shut, but he smashed his hand into the door nonetheless. He tore the lock out and flung the door open as Driftwood looked in for a peak. A gasp escaped the hacker as Asard looked into the trailer in shock. They held their breaths staring into the trailer of the truck as if the answers themselves were laid out in runic languages seared into the metal. Each one of them were frozen in place, staring in there as if they had turned to stone.

_Oh. God no._

“That can’t be. I thought his body was…” Driftwood stumbled backwards. Asard couldn’t move. He kept staring at the body in the cargo. He kept staring at Sigma’s body. It wasn’t his full body. Just pieces of them. In vials, boxes, datachips. It was all there. Asard starting shaking. He wanted to destroy everything in there. It took all his strength not to slip into the trailer and go berserk. It was him. It was Sigma’s fault that he was like this!

He didn’t know how much time had passed when Driftwood left his side. He was stuck in place before he heard Alexander’s voice ring out across communications. “ _The mission has been compromised. We are to retreat.”_

Asard was pulled from his state of disbelief. No. They couldn’t let Sigma’s body get in the hands of these Mavericks. “We can’t retreat. The cargo—!”

“ _Will be destroyed using explosives._ ” Alexander cut Asard off as he stared dumb founded into the trailer. “ _Asard, ready the explosives. We are to secure a landing zone several miles from our location._ ” Asard was still.

“Copy.” They ended their communication. Asard wasted no time running to the flipped truck. His body slithered into the hole of the car looking for the explosives. His eyes looked everywhere until he found the case that was strewn everywhere. He opened the case, going through the explosives as quickly as possible. His eyes were flaming with red at the idea of his small revenge.

“Asard,” someone spoke from the side. He heard a struggle and turned. He saw Sister in a net, her body stuck and struggling against it. “Help.” Asard stared at her. She stared back. She was scared. Scared of dying.

He turned away from her, picking himself out of the hole. There was no time to help Sister, and even if he wanted to there would be no use. He was her judge and jury. In his revenge filled mind he turned away from her. Retracting his helping hand to murder the thing that ruined his life. He slithered out of the hole, hearing the screams of his comrades, the blade hitting against a robot’s body as Marx killed and killed. He moved to the trailer setting up the explosives and began to ready to set the thing up in flame.

His revenge. It was so sweet to taste on his mouth as he set the timer. A final button was pressed as he twisted the explosive into place, throwing the other extra ones inside the trailer for extra damage. It was messy, and normally he would take his time for the skill he was made for. But Sigma’s grave didn’t deserve his skill, the beauty of death. No. He wanted Sigma’s grave to be disgusting and brutal. One last explosive and he began to run. He ran as fast as he could away from the trailer seeing the zombies crawl all over the place. Marx began to run away too, and so did Driftwood.

Time became strange to him. Seconds that passed felt like hours. Asard’s focus was only kept onto those that ran in front of him. Alexander had long discarded his shield to the past and Queen Elizabeth was carrying Stephen in her mouth gentle like an alligator. He kept running, running past Aleph who was trying to keep up. A moment later he heard someone trip and he could only turn his head as Driftwood’s screams filled the air. The zombie’s teeth bit into them, tearing the hacker limb from limb as he cried out for it to end. The Mavericks tore out his body, began to eat it and swallow them as if it were a tasty meal. But they couldn’t do anything as their screams became muffled to the Reploids that tore into him. They feasted upon Asard’s friend like animals and all Asard could do was turn his head and look ahead as Driftwood reached out towards the snake beastloid crying for their companion to turn around to save the hacker from death.

They didn’t want to die like that.

A moment later Aleph tripped. Asard had been running too fast to stop to go back for her. All she could do was hear her screams as the Mavericks tore into her. Her death sounded more gruesome. At least a Reploid could turn off their pain receptors and submit to death with ease. A human had to suffer through it. Had to feel the teeth of the Maverick’s against her skin, her guts spraying everywhere. The Reploids turning red with blood and enjoying their other feast. Asard couldn’t look back, couldn’t see how he failed to protect a human. His eyes were locked in front of him as they all ran.

He heard the explosion. It rang through the desert drowning her screams.

This revenge was bitter sweet.

 

* * *

 

 

_Brother—Sister do you read me?_

_Sister—I cannot move._

_Brother—We are retreating. Where are you?_

_Sister—I am stuck._

_Brother—Get out._

_Sister—I was left here. Left to die. I was betrayed._

_Brother—Cease emotions. Initiate self-destruct._

_Sister—I was betrayed. They left me here to die. My friend let me die here. I’m going to die._

_Sister—I don’t want to die. I don’t want them to kill me. Brother, please come back._

_Brother—CEASE EMOTIONS NOW_

_Sister—Brother. Brother I am sorry. Please. I don’t want to die._

_Brother—If you do not initiate self-destruct you will be labeled as Maverick._

_Sister—I am fine with that fate._

_Brother—…._

_Brother—Disconnecting from network._

_Sister—Brother! Brother don’t leave me! I don’t want to die alone! My brother—_

_Brother—Goodbye._

 

* * *

 

 

Queen Elizabeth set Stephen down upon a rock. Her arm had been bitten off while her face mutilated. Alexander approached her, staring down at her body as she laid in the sun covered in oil both her own and another’s. Her body was barely being held together. He frowned and looked as the others in his group approached. He did a headcount and found three were missing. He already knew they were dead by the way Asard looked at Alexander. Marx approached the rock, her body soon laying against it next to Stephen as she held her blade close to her body.

They were all silent.

“Asard,” Alexander broke the silence. He still stared at Stephen’s body. “I know you looked in the cargo.” Asard didn’t answer. “What was in it?”

The silence that persisted for a few moments more was heavy on their bodies. The loss of their friends and comrades laid heavy on their souls but there was no time to mourn. Not until they were out of this hell. “Prototype weapons,” Asard replied.

“That’s all?” Alexander looked to Asard. “Just weapons?” Asard nodded his head.

Queen Elizabeth snorted. “What a useless thing to die over.” No one said anything as they looked at the ground. Silence was the only thing they could speak as they waited for their savior.

Alexander looked at Brother. “Is Sister still alive? Does she have a message for us about the situation?”

Brother was silent for a moment. “Sister disconnected herself from the network.” Asard moved uneasy. “She has officially gone Maverick.”

Alexander frowned. “Did she say why?”

“No.”

He sighed. “There’s no reason to retrieve her. Those Mavericks probably killed her.” Everyone stood uneasy around him. He felt like he was missing something. Something that he should be told but no one told him anything. No one said anything. What didn’t he know that they did? “There’s nothing we can do but wait until we’re picked up. If those Mavericks come back we’ll just have to stand our ground until we die or someone saves us.”

They all nodded their heads. Asard took a place on the ground, laying his body to bask in the sunlight as Queen Elizabeth stalked the area around their location. The rest took to just waiting for the ultimate death or for the Maverick Hunters to pick up their bodies.

 

* * *

 

 

It was dark. The shark slipped into the hole of the truck. His playthings walking around outside feasting upon the carnage of the Hunters. He heard a shuffle. Saw something move. A raptor caught in a net. Her body pained. A Twin unit. He remembered that line of production.

The shark walked forward. Placing his hand on the raptor’s neck through the net. A smile formed on his face.

“Dr. Gate is going to love this.”


	8. Your Death Will Be Your Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she dies, she finally knows what its like to feel emotion. She knows how it hurts and she wonders: is it this hard to be human?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: emeto, suicide mention

Zero stares at the ceiling. It was the only thing he could do as the days passed. Though to be fair he wasn’t quite sure if days were passing or those days were only minutes as he stared at the ceiling. Sometimes someone came near him, he called himself Gate. Usually he talked to him, saying things, touching his hair, cooing him as if they were married. Other times they were different, sometimes they were a beastloid and sometimes it was a Reploid that looked like an old man. At one point he saw his reflection: himself clad in purple armor with purpled features. Though generally he stayed awake, fearing that if he slipped back into sleep that he would experience those hellish nightmares and see Iris as he slept.

It didn’t matter if he slept or not. Those things that they stuck in him kept him from running out of energy. The pipes that pumped him full of whatever was like a constant energy drink. It was a terrible feeling having to always be awake, but it was better than to fall asleep and wonder what they were doing with his body.

So he laid there helpless. Not once talking as if his lips were sewn shut. Though to be fair he wasn’t even sure if he could talk. He hadn’t once tried to. So he laid there. Laying on the table waiting for Gate to come back to stick his hands into Zero’s body to rummage through his guts, pat his face, speak things to him, then to turn away. That’s usually what happened as he laid there for weeks or seconds.

In the rarer days would come a white wolf. He called himself Wolfang and spoke to Zero of the outside world. It was the smallest moments of peace that Zero managed from this hell. Sometimes when he looked at that wolf he saw an angel.

“Today is cold,” Wolfang would tell him. “When the sun set today the sky was burning red and purple.”

Zero would nod as he closed his eyes envisioning the world outside as Wolfang spoke to him.

It was one day that Wolfang sat with him. Took his hand in his and sat with him as if Zero was on his death bed. Zero felt calm as that icy feeling the other gave crawled up his metallic body. “This is what today feels like. It almost reminds me of home.” The white wolf grew silent as Zero closed his eyes again trying to envision the world that Wolfang came from. The icy steps of the edge of the world, the ocean roaring. “My past sins.”

_So you have sin too._

“I don’t like to see you here, Zero. It hurts me to see you disgraced like this.” His claws drew away from Zero’s hand. He already was beginning to miss the icy feeling on his body. It made him feel alive. “But I have a debt to pay back to Gate for reviving me. Even if I didn’t want to be brought back. I guess I should thank you too, if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be alive.”

_Do you hate me because you’re alive? Do you feel the same type of pain that I do for existing in this world?_

“I was content being dead.” Wolfang continued. “But being alive gives me a second chance to amend my failure.” The wolf looked up from Zero, staring into nothing.

_I guess you’re right. This gives me a second chance to mend my mistakes._

It was these conversations that helped Zero sleep better at night, even if those nights were plagued with nightmares of the past. But what good could be done with those faces of all he failed stared at him, killing him, ripping out his guts as he watched on.

Zero thought that this was his death. That he was laying on death row, allowing Gate to rummage through his innards as he felt nothing. Sometimes all he did was stare at the ceiling as Gate placed his hands all over him. Other times he closed his eyes and fell back into his dreaming. At least he didn’t feel any more pain. At least he didn’t throw up anything anymore. At least he was out of everyone’s way.

So he stared up at the ceiling and looked at the dark metal wall. The drips of water that fell down onto the floor was a rhythm. A white noise. He didn’t move as he heard the door open. It was going to be the same. Gate would walk in. Touch Zero’s body. Put his hands inside his chest. Tell him things about how they would live together with his children. Sometimes he saw his purple reflection stare at him from behind Gate. Staring with those dead eyes as Zero too stared back. But he wasn’t quite sure who was more lifeless. He or that puppet. So he prepared again for the experimentations. He steeled his body for the torture but was shocked as none came as the doctor walked pasted him. Others followed. Zero craned his neck a little to stare at the commotion.

Gate was standing there, a hand placed under his chin. He saw Wolfang stand next to him, a box in his hand filled with something that Zero couldn’t see. Next to him were other Reploids. A phoenix looking one next to a beetle type one. His thoughts wandered to Stephen.

_Stephen. I remember. Do you still like beetles? Is your armor still reminiscent to them? I can’t remember what your favorite one was. I only remember that you liked beetles. Stephen… Are you still alive? Is everyone still alive?_

He wanted to cry.

Someone else walked into the room. A shark. In his arms he carried something. Zero couldn’t make out the details. All the Reploids spoke in hushed whispers as Gate took something out of the box. A glass case. Something floated in the murky green water but he couldn’t tell what it was. Some type of metal? Gate spoke something. The shark nodded and set the thing in his arms down. Wolfang walked over and strapped heap of metal down on the other bed. Zero craned his neck more but froze as Wolfang stared at him.

_Don’t tell Gate I’m awake. Don’t let him come near me. Please. Please!_

Wolfang put a claw to his mouth and whispered a ‘shh’. Zero relaxed. He closed his eyes and waited for them to leave. Time left him as he waited. The silence in the room was heavy on his body as someone tapped on his shoulder. Zero opened his eyes seeing Wolfang staring at him. “Gate is gone.” Zero eased back into his deathbed. “I steered him away from you. He won’t be here for a while.” Wolfang turned to walk away from Zero but he grabbed at him.

At least, that’s what he tried to do. It was hard, and he could only move his arm just a little since it was strapped down. Wolfang stopped to see Zero struggle. Stared at him with those red eyes. They shared a moment together as Zero stared at him. As he stared Zero tried to speak. A croak. No words came out from his mouth. So he frowned instead at the fact he couldn’t talk to his Maverick ‘friend’. It was annoying, the fact he couldn’t even speak to the one Reploid that kept him sane.

Wolfang laughed. “You don’t need to tell me anything, Zero.” He patted the other’s arm and walked away. So Zero was left alone again. Alone with his thoughts as he stared where Wolfang left. So he sighed as he laid against the metal bed trying to make out the new things in the room. There was new metal. Some cases of glass in the room. The computer monitors were turned off so he couldn’t snoop a look at what Gate was doing this time. What did it matter anyway? He was never going to get out.

There was a noise from the other deathbed. A rattling noise as if a fish was flopping against metal over and over again. Nails against metal, a screech of pain, a tail whacking against the metal. He turned to see what it was. Eyes widened at the sight.

_Sister._

There was Sister! Her raptor body was struggling against the straps that held her down. Her body had a gash across her chest and a hole was along her body as if something had previously impaled her. Teeth marks, burns, dents. It was terrifying seeing her like this as she tried to slither out from the chains that held her. Zero kept staring. It sounded as if she was crying. But Sister couldn’t feel emotions.

She was a machine.

Eventually her struggle came to a close. Her body laid still on the deathbed as she stared at nothing. Her long neck pressed against the metal and her nails pressed against the bed. She looked like a dinosaur to be tested upon by a human to unlock the wonders of the past.

Zero was silent. Or rather, he couldn’t even speak.

Eventually Sister’s eyes wandered elsewhere. Her head turned this and that as she looked all over the room observing every inch of detail that each spot of dust offered her. Eventually her blue eyes met Zero’s and she was still as they stared. Zero’s dead expression looked at her shocked one. How funny to see that both machines would find each other in hell. Was this the fate that machines had?

“Zero,” Sister uttered in shock. “You’re alive.” Sister moved against the straps, turning her body so she could stare at Zero better. She saw his chest open for everyone to see, saw his body torn and mangled. Zero nodded his head at her. He saw one of her eyes was missing from her face, her left eye. No emotion crossed his face as he stared. “But how?” Zero shrugged. “Can you speak?” Zero shook his head.

_I lost my voice to hell._

Sister was silent.

They were both silent.

“Driftwood is dead.” Sister spoke suddenly as if it dawned on her to tell him. Zero’s body wrenched. Zero looked away from Sister. His face twisting into pain. “He was eaten alive.”

_Driftwood. Driftwood why did you have to die? I want you to tell me that story again. About your creation. Why are your limbs mix-match? You told me it a hundred times. I don’t remember. I don’t remember it at all. I’m sorry._

“Asard. Asard is a Maverick.” Zero looked back at the ceiling, the news that Sister kept flooding onto him was beginning to hurt him even more. “He left me to die. He betrayed me. My brother, he left me. He’s a Maverick.” She was buzzing with emotions as Zero stared at the ceiling.

_I don’t care! Let me die in peace! Let me die ignorant to everything._

“They’re all Mavericks. All of them.” She struggled against the table again. Zero didn’t look at her.

_She’s becoming… human. And I’m still here, a machine._

She kept struggling against the table. Clawing all over the place. Her claws were ripping into the metal sheet. Her body kept banging against the table. The chains around her clinking. The straps were beginning to screech. That shark did a crap job in putting her on her deathbed. But maybe it was for the best, maybe his mistake could cost Zero his life.

_Will she leave me to pursue her emotions? Will she become human? Will I be left to lay on this dead bed and continue to have my guts rip out? Will I ever learn to become human?_

The noise would attract attention. He was surprised no one came in to check on them. But maybe Wolfang knew and decided to leave the two alone.

_Maybe she will kill me._

He closed his eyes as Sister struggled against the bed. He heard her feet hit the ground. Her long raptor claw tapping against the metal floor.

_Sister. Please kill me._

He opened his eyes. She was above him. Her teeth bared. Her claws holding him down further into the bed. Her single claw on his chest.

_Tear me apart._

She struck down at Zero. Her claws and teeth breaking into the straps that held him down. The chains breaking underneath her bite. She pulled and tore. Her nails sometimes digging into Zero’s body but he did not feel any pain. Sister bit into him once as she clawed out the things that were attached to Zero’s body. Oil spilled out from those pipes. Bassinium melted into Sister’s body. She didn’t say anything.

_What are you doing? Kill me! Don’t kill yourself! Kill me!_

It was melting her away as she tore out the things that were stuck in Zero’s body. He puked all over Sister but she didn’t stop. He wanted her to stop but she didn’t. Eventually she kicked Zero off the bed. His guts spilling all over the place as his body turned and hit the floor with a loud thud. Sister stood on his deathbed as she stared down at Zero who slowly gathered his bits and pieces up and shoved them into his chest. His hearts were on the floor. They were beating against the metal floor.

_I’m so disgusting._

Zero knelt on the floor, gathering his body and attempting to stuff them back into his body as if he were stuffing a scarf down some jacket. It was messy. What had originally been put into place nice and neat were now shoved back in with no rhythm or reason. Sister jumped from his bed and walked around to stand in front of him as he kept stuffing himself back together.

“We’re leaving.”

Zero shook his head.

“Don’t you want to get out of here?” Zero was silent as Sister brought her face near the other’s. Her raptor face so close to his face. “I’m getting you out.” She bit down on Zero’s arm and began to drag him across the floor. Green blood like oil beginning to paint the ground as he slid across the floor. Zero cringed at the pain, but it was nothing like the pain he felt every time Gate shoved his hands into his body.

_Wolfang. Are you keeping people out of this room?_

Sister still began to tug at Zero’s arm. Biting down on other parts of his body as she dragged him across the floor. There was so much green blood. So much oil everywhere. They were both silent. The only noise in the room was Zero’s body being dragged across the floor and occasionally the noise of something falling over on the ground. Zero stared at the ceiling as he was dragged across the floor. His hair was caked in that green oil.

_Why can’t I move?_

He heard a door open. Another’s footsteps.

_Wolfang… is that you?_

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” came an unknown voice. It didn’t sound like Wolfang. It sounded different. Sister let go of Zero and his arm fell limp on the floor. The raptor took off running at the stranger. Zero turned his head, seeing that shark like Reploid begin to get his face ripped apart as Sister jumped at the other. Her teeth sunk down into the other’s face. Her claws penetrating the other’s armor. Red oil was spilling everywhere and began to mix into the green that Zero left behind.

“Get out of here!” Sister screamed at him as she bit further down into the other. Zero couldn’t move. All he could do was stare. It wasn’t until the shark finally got his hands wrapped around Sister and threw her against the wall that the will bloomed.

Perhaps he would have died should he had stayed there. But something in Zero decided to move. He picked himself off the ground, one hand keeping his guts in and the other grabbing onto anything to help him keep a steady body. Something in him made him move. Something alien, something not a part of him. Had that something not been there he would have taken a knife and stabbed himself, cut himself up, pound his hearts into pieces and finally die, but that thing wouldn’t let him. Instead it forced him onward, towards the unknown, towards the door. He looked away as Sister began to tear the other apart, her screams and his mixing into one voice. There was the door, he didn’t know where it went, but it was better than this place.

He slammed his fist on the door panel and began to push open the door with his hand. Even after all this time he still had the strength to continue moving forward. He never looked back. Even as Sister screamed, even as Wolfang yelled, even as he heard Sister’s body be torn apart, he never, ever, looked back.

* * *

 

_This is death._

Sister stood, in the darkness, staring into the abyss.

_This is… emotion._

She looked at herself. She didn’t look at a unit, she didn’t look at we, she didn’t look at both Brother and Sister. She looked at herself. The I. The me. The being.

_I can’t hear anyone. The network… That’s right. Its gone. I’m disconnected._

She looked around. Turned her head back and forth.

The unit realized one thing about death, about being disconnected:

_Its lonely._

Sister had been so accustomed to being with someone. Whether it be Brother or someone else that existed on the network she was always with someone. Now that she was alone, without anyone to talk to or someone to listen to her she was kept here. When she thought she only thought for herself. There was no option now to share it with her brother or keep it to herself. It was merely a thought, and it drifted away to the unknown.

As she stood in contemplation she saw her body in the distance. A light shined upon it in the darkness. She walked towards it. It was her dead body. Her body had been torn open, wires and guts spilling out. Her face lifeless with no emotion. One leg was twisted and her tongue spilled out. Her head was smashed completely in, it looked practically hollowed out from the forced that was used. It almost looked like a dinosaur that had been found in the dirt. Her fossil.

She began to miss Brother. Her brother.

_I don’t want to die without seeing him again._

The light flashed off. Darkness was consuming her again. This time it had hands. This time it began to pull her down into the darkness lulling her to a deep sleep. She squirmed.

_Wait! Wait! I don’t want to die! I want to live! I want to see Brother. I want to see my brother again!_

The darkness didn’t say anything. It kept pulling her down. Pulling her deeper into the darkness. Granting her death.

_Please. No. Please. I don’t want to die. Asard. Asard why did you leave me? Why did you leave me, Asard? Why did you leave me brother? I wanted to live happy with you. Even if you didn’t have emotions, even when you stared at me with those cold blue eyes and showed nothing on your face you made me so happy. You made me so happy. Why did you disconnect me from the network? I want to hear your voice again. My brother. Brother. Brother…_

Her eyes closed.

_My brother…_

 

* * *

 

Stephen flung herself around like dead weight. They gave her a crutch and pushed her out the door to see Signas. Because that’s what the Maverick Hunters did when you had an important meeting to go to. But at least they had the decency to cover up the bite marks with clothing and towels so no one would stare as much as she dragged her body into the elevator to the important meeting. Though she did wish that Signas gave her more time to recovery it couldn’t he helped. Especially considering that the entire mission was a complete failure only somewhat salvageable since Asard blew the trailer up.

Regardless of all of that, she definitely wished she had more time to mourn her teammates. Though she was lucky to not be able to cry like X, she couldn’t help but fall into a deep depression as she laid on the medical berth and wonder why Driftwood of all people had to die. Sister’s death was depressing also, but it hurt more to see Driftwood die. At least Sister had a peaceful death. She was a machine and couldn’t feel emotion, she didn’t have to deal with what waited for her on the other end. Driftwood, on the other hand, was different.

Aleph’s death was tragic as it was. She didn’t know how Marx felt about it, but heard from the grapevine that bother she and Queen Elizabeth were greatly upset over the death of their friend. Stephen didn’t know her well, but still she wished her soul find peace after being so grossly cannibalized.

The door to the meeting room slid open. She looked around and saw her teammates, the mercenaries, X, and Signas sitting all together. Queen Elizabeth was more or less laying on the ground and had her face near the table while Basalt took a seat next to her. They were all waiting on her.

“Commander Signas,” she nodded her head. She would have saluted but it was hard to do considering she was still dragging herself across the floor to take a seat.

Signas looked almost surprised. “I didn’t expect you to actually come.”

“The day I miss a meeting is the day I finally die.” She took a seat. “Last I checked I’m still barely functional.” She winced as she laid her arms on the table.

Stephen looked at everyone as she got herself situated in her seat. “I appreciated you attending regardless.” Signas spoke as he began to prepare his speech/debate. It was hard to tell what action he was going to take when going to these. “I called you all here today to talk about your last mission and the current situation with the Special Class Mavericks…”

 

* * *

 

 

_Do they know?_

Asard’s eyes kept looking back and forth from everyone. He tried to stay calm. Tried to use all he learned from his time running his mafia to hide his panic. It was working. But he was screaming inside. All the words coming from Signas’s mouth was slipping through his head. He tried to grasp it, but it fell through his claws, dropping to the floor, and kept slipping and slipping.

_Does she know?_

He stared at Queen Elizabeth as her body moved. He feared she was connected to the network. Still able to read his thoughts. They weren’t machine, but they were still siblings. They had some type of connect, they had to. Just like the one Sister and Brother had.

_Oh god. Sister. What have I done. Sister. What did I do to you?_

Her look of fear kept playing back in his head as he sat in this meeting. He wanted to scream at everyone. Confess that he killed her, killed Driftwood, killed Aleph. Killed everyone. But he couldn’t. He just sat there staring at Signas trying to nod when prompted but he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Thinking about his sins. Thinking about what he had done to them.

“Asard.” The snake whipped his head up to look up at Signas. He was staring at him. They were all staring at him.

_Do they know? Do they know I’m a murderer?_

“Yes, Commander?” Maybe they didn’t after all.

“Can you tell me what was in the trailer?” Signas stared expectantly at Asard.

“There were weapons. Prototypes. You know, that kind of stuff.” He lied. The hole he created was getting deeper. He couldn’t stop now. “I didn’t get a good look at em. I was too busy trying to blow the damn thing up.” The hole kept getting deeper.

“I see,” Signas scratched his chin and went on to speak other things. Asard didn’t listen. He didn’t care. He was panicking.

_What’s going to happen to me?_

 

* * *

 

Zero woke up breathing heavy. His eyes flinging from one side to the next. He laid in a ditch. His grave. He turned his body to look up at the night sky, the stars were bright in the darkness. Metal was all around him. It was from Eurasia. He remembered it well, the colony breaking apart and hitting the world, marking a disease on it. So he was here, in this unholy site. The machine was drenched in blood, in green stuff, in red stuff. It felt slick and disgusting.

Finally, he looked down at himself. His guts were everywhere in his arms, held right against his chest. His whole body was in pain. Dirt was getting into places that had no reason to be there, his body was bathed in so much blood-like substances. Just feeling all of it, seeing all of it, it made him so sick to his stomach.

He looked at the sky again, his hand drawing closer to his stomach trying to keep all that stuff in. Part of him couldn’t believe that he was actually still alive, that he made it out to the surface, that he was able to sink his hands into the dirt and feel the earth under his hands. It felt nice, but it was also painful knowing that he had to exist now, exist in the outside world. He laid in the ditch, laid in his grave.

Thoughts turned to X. For the first time in forever he thought about X. About his friend, about his companion. He sighed into the dirt, sighed into the stars.

_X… How long has it been since they told you I was dead?_

He closed his eyes trying to envision his friend, his beloved companion. It was hard to see him anymore. The other’s face was fading from his vision. Those deep green eyes. That perky laughter. Those curls of brown. Zero frowned as he tried to see his friend again in his mind. The memory fading. So he tried again with someone else, someone like Driftwood. But nothing came to him. Not a color or a voice or even an outline of a body. He thought of Sister. Her body too was lost to his memory.

_I can’t remember a thing._

He opened his eyes. He tried to speak, but nothing could come out.

_I’m mute. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway._

He turned over in his ditch, staring at the dirt wall. He remembered how Wolfang used to say that there were cannibals here among other things. Though he wouldn’t mind if something decided to eat him in his sleep. Still, he couldn’t fall asleep, not after sleeping for so long in that hell.

Zero sat up, his arms wrapped around his body. There was nothing better to do than to wander. Perhaps then he could find someone that was willing to help him. Maybe kill him. He started to get up from the ditch, making sure his organs were kept inside his body as he sighed. Most of the armor he wore was gone. The only thing remained was his arms, his legs, and the small armor piece on his crotch. The helmet was lost, and so was his torso armor. It wouldn’t matter anyway, but at least having something between him and the outside would help in lasting just a little longer in this place.

He tried to put his body back together a little more neatly. Eventually he gave up and stuffed them in, tearing a metal piece off a slab of metal and pressing it against his torso. It was better than keeping his arm across his stomach and having his body keep falling out from his torso and having to pick them back up again.

Still, it felt pathetic to be like this. To be covered in oil and his own body. He sighed and looked up at the stars again. His legs were shaking. He had to keep moving. That thing that kept his body moving pressed him onward, kept him moving even if he didn’t want to take a step forward. It urged him forward. Towards the unknown.

_If I see X once more, then I can die without any regrets._

Eyes closed shut as he hummed a sigh. It sounded like someone had ripped out his throat and put it back inside out and upside down. But it was a noise. It was better than the wind whistling across the dirt and metal and sand.

Maybe someone would hear him.

So he began to walk towards the unknown. Towards what looked like to be civilization. A castle. A kingdom. A kingdom of dust. Of lost memories. Yes, he could see it now. The old crumbling stone made of metal instead. A king dressed in a crown of thorns as the child sat upon the grand throne.

He saw it in front of him.

There was a smile.

He was beginning to sleepwalk.


	9. The Lost Dreams of Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Children sing and dance around their mothers. Their hands linked with each other as they twirl in a circle. Their mothers hold each other close, two sisters never to be broken apart. They’re a family. A happy family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: thoughts of suicide

“Zerah.”

The Reploid held her sister in her arms. They were abandoned. Left to die in the dusty dunes. Zerah’s black hair fell over her arms. She stared into her red eyes. The false flesh on her skin had seen better days. So too did the clothing she wore. It peeled off, showing beneath the silver metal of the inside. The true body, the body that was Reploid. A machine.

“Perez,” Zerah murmured as she hugged her sister tighter in her arms, though not too tight to hurt her. “Perez, I want to go home.” Her wails were soaked in pain and despair. Not a hope lingered in her tongue.

“We can’t go home,” Perez whispered to her sister. They were left here to die by the scientists that built them. They called them obsolete. So they left them here to rot in the sand. One of the humans said they would be eaten alive by the cannibals that roamed these parts. Another said they would eat each other to join those cannibal Mavericks. To Perez they fell on deaf ears, but the sister that she took under her wing it ate at her mind. Tempted her to become Maverick to suite the words of what those humans told her. She could still see their faces, their upturned lips laughing at the two Reploids who struggled as they were left to die in this forsaken place.

The wind almost sounded like the ghost of their laughter and jokes. Perez wanted to kill them for doing this to them.

“Perez…” Zerah looked up at her sister. She reached up to brush a strand of white hair from her face. “Perez, am I… a Maverick?”

Maverick. The words echoed in the godless desert. Perez could hear Mavericks laughter. Licking their chops as they stared down at the two sisters waiting for them to be lulled to sleep to feast on their oil. So they could be taken apart and used for scrap or placed upon their bodies as trophies.

Perez laughed and shook her head. “Of course you’re not.” She smiled down at Zerah but her sister did not smile back. They were in pain; their bodies were falling apart. Zerah could no longer move her body the way she used to. What was once a bubbling girl running in the fields of the desert was now mutilated beyond repair. The dogs that were sent after them tore apart her legs. Perez killed them. She still saw the oil on her hands. Stained forever. She smiled down at her sister bitterly.

“Then why did they leave us out here? If I wasn’t a Maverick wouldn’t the humans have kept me safe in that lab?” Still laying in her lap, Zerah looked up at Perez. “I don’t want to be a Maverick. Mavericks… they’re scary.” Zerah looked down to her legs. “They did this to me. I don’t want to do that to anyone else.” Perez patted her sister’s head and closed her eyes still smiling down at Zerah. She sounded so scared of turning into a Maverick. The seed of hatred was planted so deeply into her sister. It was surprising that it was not blossoming into a flower.

Perez started to hum a tune. “You’re not a Maverick, Zerah. Those Humans just don’t realize what they did. But its ok. We have each other. That’s what matters.” She felt Zerah nod her head.  Those lies were gulped up so quickly. She hated herself for saying those words, for spewing lies of hope. There was nothing they could do. “Now sleep.”

“But what about you?” Zerah looked up at Perez again. “You need to sleep too--”

“I know. But you need it more than me. You’re younger.” That was what a human would say to their sibling. The older one to take the burden of death while the younger was to stay alive. Left alone in the world to be taken by only herself. That was the struggle of survival. That was the struggle of humanity.

“Ok…” Zerah replied almost reluctant. “I’ll sleep. But if you get tired wake me up! You need your sleep too!” Perez nodded her head as she saw Zerah become comfortable in her lap. She tried to wrap herself in her clothes and tried to become more comfortable on the ground. There was no comfort from this godless world. No comfort for the scar upon the Earth. Area Zero brought only death, just like the legends of the red soldier.

**They say that the red soldier walked this unearthly plane two and a half years ago. Sacrificing himself to the moon so that all would live. But in his ignorance he doomed the world to the struggle of death. He walks no longer, only a husk of what used to be. Doomed to damnation.**

Zerah’s body became still. “I love you.”

Perez smiled down at her sister. “I love you too.”

* * *

The sun shone upon the horizon. The sand glittered as death stood above him. Zero dragged his body across the forsaken land. He hid in the shadows created by the monstrous metal that rose from the ground. They’re like city ruins, the ruins of the city space. Bones of the deceased litter the ground. Reploid parts, some more fresh than the other. They were mutilated beyond repair. Teeth markings, stab wounds, sometimes the bodies were even human.  It was hard to tell as he walked through the desert. The images were blending together creating one outlook on life: death.

At one point he picked up a skull to look at it. To contemplate the meaning of this life. From a long time ago, he remembered X telling him a play. He didn’t remember what it was, all he remembered that it had to do with a man holding a skull. The memory was so vague, it escaped him as he held this skull.

_Alas, poor X._

Still he walked towards the unknown. Although he didn’t know where he was going it was better than that place he had once come from. Part of him wondered how Gate was taking the news that he had escaped. Part of him even wondered if anyone knew, besides Gate and his crew, that he was still alive and kicking. They probably didn’t by the way Sister looked at him. The way her eyes shone bright, gleaming in the death that would follow her soon.

Somehow he could still see the look in her face. The way she looked at him as if he was a meal on a silver platter. Her eyes burning into his soul as if he held the answers to becoming human. Did she ever become human? Did she die for nothing? It was hard to tell. Zero regretted not going back to help her or asking her if she was becoming more human than machine, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was, very likely, 100% dead. He wondered if Sister knew that death was coming for her. Why else would she give herself up for the dead body on the table? But would Gate bring her back from the dead? To make her body be useful one last time?

The thought of seeing Sister again, her zombified body walking these earthly plains, it sickened him. Everything about Gate sickened him. The way he touched his hair and touched his face. Sticking his hands into his stomach as if he was a plaything. Even now, as he walked in the desert he felt sick to his stomach knowing that there were still pieces of his body left there. His heart, one of them, still on Dr. Gate’s table being experimented on. It made functioning hard without his three hearts. The heat was horrible on his skin, and all the dirt and sand filling his body helped no better as he made his way up the hill in the beating heat. As he made his way up the hill the metal upon his torso slid from his hands. His guts began to spill forth again.

A sigh came from his lips as his body fell against the hill, pressing against the hot sand. There was so much getting into his body. So much energy he was losing. But he didn’t care. He was exhausted. It was too hard to move, but he had to keep going. So he lifted himself from the hill, sand pooling from the opening in his gut.

_Why am I still going?_

He gathered himself in his arms, not so much trying to put himself back together but holding his parts in his hands. The heat was merciless on his body. The black metal absorbed heat so easily, it felt like he was on fire. His body was turning into flames. Melting into the sand that felt like glass.

_Where am I going?_

Zero stared down at the horizon as he managed up the hill. The sand spilled down from it. Looking down into the horizon he saw nothing of worth. The kingdom of metal, the iron that clawed up to the sun and reached into the abyss of the sky, the hellish sun that beat down upon him. For a moment his mind wandered elsewhere. He thought of all the horrible things Wolfang told him of the outside world. Of all those Reploids that would eat for the pleasure of eating or kill themselves to amend their sins. How could he stand up against those Reploids in this state? He could overcome a group, but an entire army of them was out of the question. He couldn’t speak anything to them either. Not like he was diplomatic, he rather his sword or fists do the talking than speak. Though in this instance talking was the only thing that was going to save himself from imminent death. Even if death sounded wonderful that thing kept making him tick. Kept preventing himself from smashing his hand into his skull and crushing his personality chip.

Gaze turned down to the organs in his arms and a frown crossed his face.

_Am I still alive because… of him?_

A vision of his friend came into view. X. He thought of X, of his friend.

With a sigh he slid down the dune. The sand turned into rock and dirt and life was possible in the shade of metal. It was his chance to survive, albeit small it was better than walking in broad daylight all the way out in the beating sun. He hoped he could find some salvageable metal to be worked on him or a friendly Reploid that would repair him for the fee of protecting them.

His vision was getting blurry.

But he had to keep moving.

Had to keep himself alive.

Had to see his friends one last time.

_How long have I been walking?_

His guts were still in his arms. He was coated in sand. Zero never thought he could ever feel the need to breath. Reploids and machines didn’t find the need to breath so there was no use to have that function. Yet as he walked across the desert, ducking his head under metal, wiggling through small openings in holes to find a place to sleep, Zero found that the ability to breathe, or to feel out of breath, was a horrible feeling. He wondered how humans managed to survive for this long. How something so delicate had the power to live through the burden of living. The Reploid was finally beginning to understand why humans hated to be choked to death. It was so personal, so _intimate_. Though the desert was a rather intimate creature, as was Gate, he would prefer death by the desert after he was repaired otherwise it would be a death at the hand of Gate. Death in general was something that Zero wanted, but if it had to come down to it he wanted the desert to take his body. He wanted to choose death by his own hands, whether it be suicide or the desert that simply wanted his life. So Zero dragged himself across the desert. Sometimes he saw another Reploid, tried to speak, but found eventually that the Reploid was already deceased or found better pleasure in pleasuring themselves.

It disgusting him.

Zero was repulsed by this anarchy.

There were no rules or guidelines that he could follow to prevent himself from becoming Maverick or missing a step, but at the same time he couldn’t do anything but embrace this interesting yet cruel world that Sister and Gate had forced upon him. The Laws of Robotics was still fresh in his mind, yet in this world there was no need for them. This cruel world would not allow the talk of the laws of robotics. That much was for certain from the way ‘Fuck the Hunters’ was painted on metal or how some Maverick Hunters were out on a stick with their guts hanging out.

So in this new found freedom, he did what any other Maverick would.

He tried cannibalism, he tried the false religions that Reploids spoke of, he tried to kill himself, he tried to set himself on fire to become a martyr, he tried pleasuring himself in the ways humans would, he tried everything. In the end he couldn’t. Zero’s teeth could not sink into another Reploid, though he did smear oil and blood upon his lips yet found himself too repulsed to actually eat the flesh. Zero could not handle those words of those false priests and they preached of godhood. It all went over his head, not once making any imprint on him, so he left the church and no one said a word to him. It was ironic, that the next day they began killing each other. They were all the same in the end anyway. And Zero could not, under any circumstances, commit suicide. That thing in the back of his head screamed at him not to, subjected him only to inflicting self harm, but never being able to take the blade in his hand and plunge it into his chest. Pleasuring himself was no pleasure. He had no pleasurable bits. All he felt when feeling himself was numbness, was the aches of his guts, was nothing.

So instead he wandered.

Days turned into weeks. His guts were still trailing behind him. In those weeks he made a sword from the scrap metal to protect himself from being eaten alive by those cannibals. Still his voice would not return to him. Eventually he figured out the problem was not because of his mental state but because Gate had not completed his body just yet. So until he could repair himself with the proper tools or until he could find someone else to repair him Zero was mute and had his guts hanging out for everyone to see.

Some of the Reploids called him death. They saw how he slinked across the wastelands dragging his body behind him still carrying his twig of a sword. His long hair matted with oil and human blood as his mouth was still smeared in that oil. The rains barely fell on the forsaken land, so Zero was forced to become a monster for the Reploids to preach of. They said he was the devil, that his meat will make them achieve godhood, that his sword has slain thousands upon thousands, that he was the true Maverick.

Most knew who he really was: a dead robot that breathed legends. Yet those that didn’t spun tales of old about who he really was. In the end Zero didn’t care. At the end of the day his thoughts wandered to his friends or to the pain in his body. How he sat against the metal and thought about his friends and wondered to himself how it would come to this.

The day was getting late. He heard word from one of the friendly Reploids a storm was coming so shelter had to be found. Should he need to murder then he was fine with that fate. So he walked, his eyes peering into each nook and cranny for safe havens. All the Reploids had hid far away from anywhere. The dust was beginning to kick up. Was it going to be rain at last? Or would it be another dust storm?

Zero sniffed the air. It didn’t smell like rain or dust. Hail? Fire? He wasn’t sure anymore.

So he dragged his body across the desert, his body sore and still bloody. It was becoming increasingly harder to move. But he couldn’t stop after walking for so long, for surviving so many ordeals. He had to keep moving.

Eyes became hazy. Vision blurred and again those hallucinations became apparent. Sometimes he saw Iris in the corner of his eye. Other times he saw X. Sometimes he saw Driftwood’s mangled body or Sister’s disfigured neck. But still Zero walked forward and didn’t mind those sights. It was hard enough to pay attention to things that would throw him in a fit. A sigh came from his throat, his body still dragging across the desert.

_I need to find someplace to rest._

Zero shook the hazy feeling from his head. Body becoming heavier with every step. Eyes still trailed back and forth finding some appropriate place but still he couldn’t find one. The sword slid from his hand and hit the ground. It was getting harder to breathe again, but that was normal now.

He looked up to the sky. The darkness was beginning to reach into the swirling reds and purples. Just like how Wolfang told him. It was the last thing he saw before he hit the ground and passed out into the great abyss. A smile apparent on his lips.

_Here… I am fine dying here._

The wind howled. The kingdom of dreams began swirling. He felt death touch him.

* * *

 

Eyes opened wide and Zero sat up straight. Those eyes stared deep into the metal wall in front of him until he turned towards the being towards him. Guts fell out his body as he turned, his clawed fingers ready to rip apart the Reploid near him. The program that told him to kill, the system, it screamed at him, shouted at him to kill the other. All he could see was red. It was funny, that the system, that thing that told him to kill, should rack its ugly head back up from the depths of his body and giggle endlessly.

“Wait, wait!” yelled the Reploid. The red began to fade. He saw a child. A Reploid child to be exact. He was small and young. His hair was blazing with red and his eyes were a deep purple. He wore clothes, torn from use, but clothes nonetheless. “Please don’t hurt me!” Zero lowered his hand, the system still screamed at him to pounce but he pushed it down for now. So strange. It was so strange for that animalistic instinct to come back at him and nip him. He was shaking so terribly, the both of them. Fear, death, hatred, all swirling around. The child sighed. “Oh, mister. I thought for sure you were going to kill me.” Zero stayed silent as the child wiped their forehead rather theatrically. “Whew. I’m glad you didn’t. You looked really messed up back there, and that storm comin’ was a serious banger.”

_You talk like… Driftwood._

“Um. Uh. Sir? Red? Aren’t ya gonna say anything?” Zero was silent before he realized the fact that couldn’t say anything. Zero touched his lips, feeling the grime of oil and blood, tried to say something, and frowned. So Zero pointed to his mouth, specifically the tongue, and shrugged his mouth. “Ohhh ok! I getcha! Can’t talk!” The child nodded their head. “Well my name is—I don’t really have a name. But my mom calls me Sam!” He pressed a thumb against his chest. Zero frowned. That was impossible. A Reploid could not have a mother nor father. A creator, but never one that they could consider a true parent. Then again, this Reploid was a child, ignorant of the hearts of humans. Were they abandoned here? Did their ‘mother’ leave them here? “But my brothers and sisters call me SamSam! You can call me either one—or… er… think in your head any other name.”

Zero was still silent. He looked down at his stomach. Guts were packed neatly in his chest and held together by strong hemp.

“Well uh… since you can’t talk I’ll just call you Big Red! Like Big Blue. That’s what they call the sky, or is it the ocean?” Sam looked down at their hand deep in thought. “I can’t remember which one mom taught me is the one.”

_The ocean. Its the ocean._

“Well! It doesn’t matter Big Red.” The child smiled at Zero. Zero looked away observing his surroundings. They were in some makeshift hideout. He saw the small hole that Sam dragged him through and saw the storm that raged outside. It was rain. Zero looked down at the dirt and began to write something in it. If he couldn’t speak at least he would try to communicate with the other. It had been a long time since anyone was so nice enough to talk to him in this way. Most shunned from him, but at least this one didn’t.

**Why didn’t you kill me?**

Sam looked down at the ground and furrowed his eye brows. “What’s that say?” he looked up at Zero.

_Oh. Great._

“Gosh darnit. I forget you can’t speak! One of my siblings back home can read. Maybe she’ll get to the bottom of this!” Sam smiled at Zero. Zero looked away. He couldn’t get attached. The other was going to die. They all died. All of them that came into contact with Zero died. Sam tugged out the makeshift sword Zero made from behind him and laid it in Zero’s lap. “While I was draggin’ you in here I found the sword you dropped.” Zero’s hands found itself on the sword. Gripping the hilt as if it would bring one last bit of mind back to him. “It’s a pretty bad sword. It can’t even speak!”

_A talking sword? Impossible._

“Maybe when you come back home mom can make you a sword! One that talks and says nice things!” Sam smiled at Zero. Zero didn’t look at him. Sam frowned, “Mom hasn’t been back in a while. But that’s ok! I was put in charge of gathering goodies. Well not alone. Some other of the kids are helping too. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to gather the most stuff!” Sam beamed proudly at the prospect of gathering as many supplies. Zero wanted to leave and run as far away as he could. But looking at himself now he couldn’t. His entire body was ruined beyond belief. It was a miracle that he could still walk.

_Heh… Miracles._

_Is this a miracle?_

Sam brought out a knife from his bag. It was a grant looking knife. Forged carefully and skillfully. It was amazing work. Words were engraved in it, words beyond Zero’s comprehension. All Zero could do was peer into it. Beautiful. “Mother’s second made this for me.” He offered it to Zero but Zero would not budge. It was too holy for him to touch. Too beautiful. So Zero drew back away from it. “Don’t worry! It ain’t anything bad and I’m not givin’ it to you! I just want you to hold it.” Sam offered the dagger to Zero again. “Maybe you can speak to it?”

Again with the talking swords. The more Zero heard about it the less inclined he felt to hold that thing. Holy? Cursed? Maybe the spewing of some lost child not knowing what their place was in the world. The delusions of an abandoned Reploid, left here, unknowing to the world outside. Either way, it freaked Zero out. The way that dagger sat so still in the other’s hands. Staring at him, peering into his soul. He wanted to move away, to crawl out that hole and be left to the sharks. Still…

Zero reached out to take the dagger in his hand. It beat underneath his clawed fingers. A fire spread through his body. He heard the thing speak to him in that strange tongue. A foreign language, as if it was made up, but all of it made sense to him. All Zero could do was stare deep into the dagger. Seeing his reflection in the pretty metal.

It was the first time he had seen himself since waking up from death’s cold grasp.

His face was ruined. Eyes stared cold into that endless reflection. Eyes burned with no passion. Skin peeled so carefully at his sides. Hair was frayed and matted, bathed in disgusting oil. The sleek golden blond looked more like brown and mud. Lips were torn. Scars running up his face. Everything about himself looked like a zombie. He looked so much like a husk of a human. So much like nothing.

_Am I… nothing?_

He dropped the dagger on the ground. He was shaking. His body was being torn apart, his mentality ripping apart the false body he had made up in his mind and putting it back together to become more disgusting. Sam picked up the blade from the ground listening to it as Zero sat staring at his hand. That dagger pried opened into his mind somehow. It tore down what he considered to be himself by only a reflection.

_No. I did this to myself. I did it to myself._

Sam looked at Zero. “The rain doesn’t look like its gonna let up soon.” He sat crisscross, putting back the dagger into his pack. “But when it goes away we can go home! You can meet all my siblings and everything. There we can patch ya back up!” He wagged his finger in the air at nothing in particular. All Zero could do was stare into the hand that held the dagger. Slowly he clenched his fists, those claws digging into his palms. It was the pain that kept him steady.

_It talked…!_

He hated how Sam acted like nothing was wrong. He wanted to speak, wanted to say something, but all he could say were some groans or moans. Ahhs. Eeehhs. Cracked. Choked. Like biting on his own tongue. That’s all he could possibly do anymore besides swing his pathetic excuse of a sword around and rip open those Mavericks that dare touched him. Zero still thought he was better off dead. At least then he would no longer have to suffer this horrible feeling of uselessness. The enteral dread of death hanging over him. A noose tightening around his neck harder each and every day as if this death was destined.

_But why… why can’t I die? Why can’t I break my head open and take my personality chip and smash it? Why can’t I dig the sword into my throat or stomach. Why do I keep… going?_

Zero laid back down onto the ground. He didn’t say anything to Sam, or at least made no indication of acknowledging the other’s words. So quiet was the night besides the rain that dripped against the metal. Sam spoke, said something to Zero, but Zero ignored it; or rather, those words slipped through his head and joined the rain that stormed outside. So he allowed himself to drift into darkness and the void gleefully took his mind. That consuming darkness, that horrible darkness. He stared into the metal as he laid motionless. Scared to move his body, scared that his guts would spill out, scared that Sam was Gate in disguise and shove his hands back into his guts and experiment with him.

Cold. That’s what he felt. He felt so cold as he curled in on himself again as any other night and held his sword close to his body. So cold and tired in this hell, he had nothing better to do but dream of the future, of think of his living friends.

X.

He thought about X. Wondered if he was still alive, wondered if he had moved on from Zero to let Zero’s body rot in the cold unforgiving lands of death. That would be for the best. It would do everyone a favor because at least then he could go on living, or dying, alone like it always should have been. So staring at the wall he waited for the rain to cease, waited for death to take him, or waited for someone to find them and, hopefully, kill Zero as he slept.

**I hope… I die.**

* * *

 

In the distance, a scientist walked upon the rocks that his lab was hidden in. The rain fell upon his face. His coat whipped in the wind. He looked up at the cloudy sky, the night breeze blowing in his face. As he stared into the sky, he wondered to himself how this could happen? How could he lose the one thing he most dearly loved? His body was weak, his knees hit the ground as he stared in that unforsaken sky. In his hands was the heart of the dead. He could feel it pulse under his fingers. Green blood dripping from his fingers.

Rage burned in his heart.

Rage.

Rage.

He stared into the heart in his hand. Beating green blood. Dripping green blood. It was slick in his hands, turning his body green. How good it would be to eat it, to have a part of him in himself forever. The flesh must taste so good, so delicious. He pressed the thing to his lips, beating against his tongue. The taste was acid, burning on his body as if it would melt his skin.

Beautiful.

But his thoughts turned to the other Mavericks that would dare touch his beloved. So infatuated he was with Zero that all reason had left his mind. To see the other again, to lay with him, it would be wonderful. How he wanted it, how he wanted to dig his hands deep into the other’s body and kiss his lips. To touch and brush his fine hair and stare into his eyes as he stared wordlessly back.

_What if another person has him?_

That thought—that single disgusting thought that would dare intrude upon his mind—sent him into a rage. Thinking that someone else, besides himself, would dare be allowed to baby Zero, to hold him in his arms, be allowed. That single thought turned him mad. Made him shake and growl and look onward in disgust at the world before him. No one was allowed Zero, no one but Gate himself.

So that thought bled into his mind, dripped down into his body and tainted the last purity that Gate had, which wasn’t much. That burning rage reached every single crevice of Gate’s body and turned him into a mad dog fret with lust, or was this lust merely the broken dreams of an angry doctor that was allowed nothing so gave into the false heat of Zero’s body? None the less, Gate cradled that very green soaked heart that didn’t beat. Gate believed it did, however, so thus it did. He pressed that heart into his chest, pressed it close to his body that he might become one with it.

With that seed of disgust implanted deep into Gate’s soul, he could not help but stare into the desert. The rain cleaning him of Zero’s fluids. His body letting a cold laugh expel from his lips. Only the dead could hear it as he laughed louder and louder. That laughter of death, that laughter of longing. So unforgivable. So cold.

That laughed died slowly, but still a smile persisted upon his face. Full of teeth tainted with that green oil.

“Zero.”

That smile on his lips, a terrible disgusting thing. Something that brought illness.

“If I can’t have you… then no one will.”

_Till death do us apart._

* * *

Zero laid down staring at the ceiling. It was crude and old fashioned. Put together with pieces of metal and welds. But it worked well to keep the outside destruction at bay. Sat carefully at his side was a child so willing to ‘sew’ his stomach back up with metal. It wasn’t good metal, but the best metal they could find in the godforsaken place. But he was quiet, still unable to speak besides his croaks and hums. But Sam did well to explain everything he could, at least enough to the point from Zero’s vague hand gestures and body near passing out from the abuse put onto him. That child that worked on him was silent, almost terrified of Zero as he laid there on the ground. Zero would not look at them, not even acknowledge their existence, but he felt it, felt the fear of that child. Those steady shakes as they put his body back together and cleaned his body.

_Pathetic. I can’t move. My body finally gave out._

So he was still as the child finally got up and left. He was happy to be left alone to lay on the ground. No one to bother him, no one to look at him, no one to see him squirm and attempt to speak.

He closed his eyes.

His body still hurt. Yearned for death. Phantom pains itched their way everywhere. Skin still peeled and he still felt his guts out his body.

_Put it back. Back in my stomach. Get your hands out. Out of me. Stop…!_

When he opened his eyes another child sat next to him. Older, more teen than child. She was dressed more nicely than the others. Green short hair, pink eyes, a delicate figure. Her clothes were pure white, dressed in gold. It was priestly, but not the type of priestly he found in those false religions. A true holy feeling. She stared softly at Zero, a small smile on her face. Her face so serene compared to all the other faces he’s seen. It reminded him of X.

“You’re awake,” she spoke. Her voice heavenly and soft. Zero was silent. “I know you can’t talk. Sam told me.” From her lap she picked up a data pad and a pen. Something Zero could write with. She must be the person that Sam talked about—the one who could read. “Here.” Zero took the thing from her, and immediately began to write. He showed her the data pad and waited intently, watching her with those eyes of death. She looked down at the pad, and gave a soft chuckle from her lips. Her hand gently touching her chin as if she were nobility. “You don’t even give me enough time to ask you a question. But I guess that’s normal.”

She looked away from Zero, trying to form an answer for his question.

“We don’t kill you because you did no harm to us,” she paused for a sigh. “Sam knew you weren’t one of them. Those Mavericks. It might surprise you but we’ve seen you wander this place. You never did harm to those innocent Reploids, only the bad ones.” Her answer pissed Zero off. It was too innocent of an answer, too pure of anything. It made him want to rip the data pad in half. “But since I answered your question, you must answer mine. What is your name?”

Zero began to write it down, not bothering to delete the question on the data pad.

**Zero.**

The teenager smiled. “Zero. A nice name.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “My name is Ferhat.” He didn’t need it. That name would be quickly forgotten, dispelled from his mind as all the other memories were. His faulty mind, his faulty memory, it never failed to delete that which he cared not for. So he wrote another question down, rather straight to the point and with little care for how Ferhat felt. There was no need for any emotion, not when his body was half dead and these children wouldn’t give him any piece of mind. He hated it. Hated how the world would never let him die.

**Where am I? Why are you all just kids?**

Ferhat peered at the questions for a little bit before drawing back. “You’re in the outskirts of Area Zero. This place is, I suppose, a kingdom for orphan children and those abandoned by their creators and family. I didn’t create it, but I’m considered the leader of the group should mother be gone.” Ferhat flattered her clothes a little as Zero began to write another question. He didn’t need to show her; she already knew what that question was. “My mother, she is a kind lady. She taught us our trade—to create weapons that can speak.”

_Again with the talking weapons. He was so interested now in what that entailed. How could a weapon speak?_

So he wrote.

**How can a weapon talk?**

But all Ferhat could do was let out a noble laugh and smile brightly at Zero. “These weapons…” she drew a rapier from her side. Her smile grew sinister. “We take the dead’s personality chips, and store them in here.” Zero wanted to crawl away. This wasn’t some type of blacksmith. This was more like a place to raise zombies, this was… **_shadowplay_**. “It doesn’t matter who it is. If its one of our own, we forge them into a weapon using their parts. Its what makes our weapons special.” She pressed the blades tip onto Zero’s shoulder. He knew now, what that dagger was trying to tell him. A call for help. He heard those screams now, those agonizing screams. “This blade, _Fury’s Tower_ , is my child.” Ferhat drew _Fury’s Tower_ back, laying the blade across her lap as Zero stared.

Another question itched on his tongue. So he began to write it, but Ferhat raised her hand to stop him.

“You must rest now. I will answer any more questions you have in the morning.” That sickly smile on her face was still present as she got up from the ground and moved to the cloth that hung from the opening. “Goodnight, Zero.” Then she left.

Zero sat there, fear in his eyes as he looked down at his body. A useless body, a body that could barely function of move. Were they going to harvest his chip and turn him into a blade? There was no other way, that must be his payment for his sins. A life as a blade. To kill more and more until he would perish. That had to be it. But as those thoughts swarmed him there was nothing he could do but lay upon the ground and stare at that ceiling.

He would not pray, he would not scream (he could not), all he could do was lay there silent. Children laughed outside, giggling and playing. He heard those words, heard them whisper as they talked about him. Were they preparing their feast? Were they preparing the flame to turn him into a blade? He wanted to throw up but nothing would come from his mouth. Not a single shake left his body, so he stayed still in fear.

So still as he looked at that ceiling.

So still as he thought of Ferhat’s sickly smile.

But he supposed that, in the end, it was a better fate than being left with Gate.


	10. The Other Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SISTER? ARE YOU THERE? I MISS YOU. PLEASE, FORGIVE ME.

Do androids dream of electric sheep? What do I say when someone asks that question when all I dream is war?

As I lay here I wonder how many times I’ve laid motionless on the floor or bed or metal or anything. I guess its almost like sleep paralysis, only that my body does not have the will to move. But, in the end, is it my body that doesn’t have a will or is it my mind that does not have a will? Should I say my soul when I don’t have one? Could I say that my system, the thing that keeps me alive, is my soul?

No.

I don’t have a soul. So there’s no point in proclaiming to myself that there is one when I feel empty.

Even if there’s something in me that hurts, that makes me stay alive, I’m not sure if I can say its myself. I feel something. A parasite. That’s what it feels like.

Is that the thing Gate put in me? The will to live?

Or is that….

* * *

 

Zero crossed his arms as he looked out in the small ‘village’ that contained robot children. Reploids oiling blades, speaking to their swords, or playing like how human children would play. He discarded his armor long ago because what need is there to wear a helmet and arm bracers when it was barely necessary? The war in his head screamed to don armor, but yet his more ‘human’ side told him that he didn’t need to.

The children here helped him back on his feet and decided not to turn him into a sword like the rest. So he guessed he was accepted into their pact and was one of them. Yet there was another part of him that figured these children looked up to him as the parent that hadn’t returned in months. He managed to dissect from the mouthier ones that their Mother (as they so simply call her) was out and hasn’t been back in a very long time. Zero knew far better than anyone else that she was likely dead, but he didn’t say anything and would leave it to the older of the Reploids to explain it to the children when they ‘were old enough’. Because that’s how human families worked and this village operated like human families, much to Zero’s dismay.

The children saw how he looked at them. He looked at them with mild anxiety and yet they still smiled happily at him like the innocent children they were. Large teeth brimmed at him as he leaned against the doorframe and Zero could only look away as if bothered by the human site. But those were children for you. Pure little things that even Reploids could mimic from the real deal.

Children didn’t worry about what was human or what was machine. They didn’t worry about anything. Part of Zero envied that. So when he looked at these children he was somehow reminded of the innocence that used to be X before the wars began and everything fell into darkness.

He placed his hand over his chest where one of his hearts should be. A large hole still gaped from there, but everything else was filled and fix. Even with his other two hearts that beat in his body he still felt empty without the one. He slogged through the day unable to managed some days being overheated and others he felt perfectly normal. Now that he had been (almost) repaired by the children he walked with a small limp and could no longer change his hand into a buster. Instead he only held a sword. A perfectly normal sword.

That could talk, of course.

But he ignored it.

Thankfully the children would rather ‘play’ with it than watch Zero ignore the beautiful purple metal that blazed like fire both in the night and day.

He still couldn’t really speak anyway.

As night dawned Zero sat on the ground as Ferhat sat in front of him also. This was their nightly ritual. She would sit and talk to Zero about what had happened in the outside world and Zero would listen since this was his only escape from the hell of Area Zero. But as the days passed the news sounded the same and he could no longer tell one from the other. So he stared rather dully at her as she drew on. “Lately the cannibals have moved elsewhere. So now its easier to get the metal we need.” She paused handing Zero a book. An actual book, with paper and binding and everything. “Maalik found this while he was out. A book. I think you’d enjoy it.” Cautiously he took this book in his hand, scared that if touching it the papers would disintegrate. Fingers carefully stroked the binding, reading the words upon it.

_The Life of Pi._ “Hmm.” Was Zero’s grunt of thanks as he set the book to the side.”

Ferhat rubbed her hands together. “He reported seeing a blue Reploid walk around the place. Maybe the Reploid left it there.”

Zero shook his head and pointed at Ferhat making a noise with his throat. Eyes were wide open at the mere mention of blue and reploid said together in one sentence. Mind automatically ran to the closest association he could think of, even if there must have been thousands of similar Reploids. He tried to speak, but like a baby could not say much but some strained words. “Hoooo.. Ooo.”

“Who?” Ferhat tipped her head to the side as she stared at Zero who nodded his head. She smiled, that same sick smile that was always on her face. Zero had gotten used to it now, but it still made his neck tingle with a horrible feeling. “Perhaps… X?” She repeated the word slowly. “But that’s the obvious guess.” She shook her head. “Though, I’m not sure why he’d be here. There’s nothing for anyone out here.” She pressed her finger to her chin as if in thought. “There’s nothing for anyone like us out here. Those who’ve lost something come here because there’s nothing else to lose. He has something, so he’s not like us. He still has will, and we don’t.”

Zero shook his head over and over again and tried to speak making gestures with his hands. Words that some of the children taught him. “M…. Innn…” Throat hurt and he couldn’t speak anymore. But X made him talk. Made him keep forming words when all that came from his mouth were less than words. They sounded like screams if screams could be heard in such a normal voice. Body began to shake at his excitement, or was it fear?

_X it has been so long. Are you ok? Is everyone ok? How is everyone?_

Ferhat stopped smiling. Pity crossed her face as she stared at Zero. “You? Have a will?” She blinked at Zero and upon hearing that even Zero turned silent.

He shook his head.

“I know. You want to die.” She looked towards the ground as if upset for Zero. “Then why do you care so much about X?”

Zero opened his mouth but nothing came out. It wasn’t the fact he couldn’t speak; it wasn’t the fact that because if he could speak it could not explain why he cared so deeply about X; but it was because of the fact that he had nothing to say that no words came out.

_Why do I still care when its been so long?_

If he didn’t have a will, didn’t have a soul, then there was no point in caring about a ghost of a person that he had met so long ago. How many years had it even been besides? The world had forgotten about him, and so too did Zero began to forget everyone. His squad he could barely remember the names of, his body frail and weak, and X, surely, put him to the side. Even if he had died the world moved on, and so did Zero’s original shell of being. So Zero closed his mouth and looked at the floor.

“You understand, don’t you?” Ferhat stared at Zero. Her eyes peering into him as he kept staring at the floor. He was stiff as a board as he stared at the floor finding it more interesting than looking at that who tormented him. Zero feared that if he looked into Ferhat’s eyes then his will would truly be gone forever. “But if you want to look for him, we can help.”

She slid her sword towards Zero, but Zero pushed it away.

“I…” he croaked. “Mmmm. Hii…” Zero pressed his hands to his throat and furrowed his brows. “Y… Yee….” It was the closest thing he could say to a yes. And Ferhat nodded her head.

He felt like a child trying to get permission from his mother to do anything.

But that was the case of this strange place. This kingdom of forgotten dreams.

“Then, we’ll help. Maalik will show you.” She brought her sword close to her, holding her child in her arms. “You can come back, if you want. We’ll always accept you.” With gentle hands, she set the sword down at her side and let her hands open wide. “Because—you’re like us.” She let her hands press to her chest and her eyes drooped to gaze down towards herself. “Lost children looking for something to live for.”

They almost left him in the middle of nowhere. Maalik pointed him the way, shoved a sword in his hand, and left so unceremoniously that Zero almost expected that the sword to bid him goodbye. But like Zero, the sword was silent.

They called it _Keeper’s Blade_.

All he had on his person was the single book, the sword, and some other materials in case he should get injured.

Briefly he wondered if the sword names had any particular meaning, but decided that it wasn’t worth the trouble to try to ask what they meant to hear Ferhat’s cryptid talk. Instead he watched Maalik duck underneath the metal and was gone forever. At least, that’s what Zero wished. Though the hospitality that the children was greatly appreciated, it was the feeling of the place that made him feel sick to his stomach. The way the children called the swords their sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, and children themselves made him want to run as far away from the place as he could. But now that he stood between X and the kingdom of dreams, Zero didn’t know if he wanted to crawl back and stay with the parentless children or if he wanted to go back into the arms of his companion.

He wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to go back to X—to the Maverick Hunters—instead he figured that seeing him would quell a thirst in his mouth. Besides, he didn’t know how long he had been gone and didn’t have the means to ask. Some people said a few years, other said a few months, and either way Zero didn’t care that much to figure out how long he had been dead. Should he return they’d tell him anyway, because they always loved to gloat about how long someone’s been dead.

Maalik’s body faded into the metal, and Zero turned his head towards the area that Maalik had motioned towards before he left. The Reploid blinked, staring at the prospect of meeting X and for once he was actually petrified of what was to come. There was an uneasy sigh as he gripped _Keeper’s Blade_ in his hand and glanced down at the ridiculously long blade. In the sun it shimmered gold and he could see the tiny spikes protruding from the blade itself.

It didn’t speak, and Zero wondered if it too had no soul.

So he moved towards where Maalik pointed and carefully stepped around the metal and bodies that were on the floor. It was like when he had wandered the desert months prior. Only instead his guts weren’t spilling everywhere and he had some means of protection. Armor had long been discarded for the traveler’s clothes that Ferhat gave him and his hair was much cleaner and neat in a braid. This journey felt normal in comparison to the journey made half dead. But his mind was no clearer.

So Zero kept walking.

* * *

 

X gave the tablet to Marx who smiled in reply. “I’m sorry we had to keep you here for so long,” he wanted to rub his hand through his hair. Exhaustion was crawling all over his body. “I tried my best to make the process as fast as possible.”

Marx stared down at the tablet, looking over the details that the Maverick Hunters spelled out. “I understand,” she spoke softly. It almost sounded as if her voice would break into pieces should anything else speak. “I’ve been through this before. Experimenters aren’t so different to exterminators.” Her smile still stayed as she gave the tablet back to X, her signature pressed carefully onto the glass. X didn’t want to ask her what she implied, instead he took the tablet back, staring at her with a careful eye. “I am free to do what I wish?” X opened his mouth to reply but Marx spoke again, “In a manner of speaking.” She looked towards the table that _Immoral Delight_ laid upon.

“Yes,” X moved to set the tablet on the table next to the sword. He felt that thing vibrate through the metal. It was disconcerting. “Our investigators don’t need you for questioning any longer.”

“I’m glad,” she moved towards X. Towards the sword on the table. “This place… it was starting to make me feel unsafe.” She reached for the sword, gripping the blade so it sliced into her palms. “I don’t like places like this.”

X raised his brow, “You live in Area Zero?” Marx slowly nodded her head.

“I’m happy there.” She stared down at her sword, “You only see the surface of things. But below that world you see is my home. A seed of hope.” A drop of blood dripped down her palm and onto the floor and she released some of the tension in her grip, letting her palm slide down the blade and soaking it in red. “In my future, you’ll see. Maybe not in our lifetime, but eventually.”

He felt uncomfortable. Unsure if this talk was Maverick or the hope of a Reploid who searched for something in the desert of oppression. Now that Humans didn’t rule every single action of a robot and stuck to the depths of the Earth, Reploids were, more or less, free to do what they pleased. But it still didn’t prevent X from questioning the motives that he heard. He tried not to twist his face, so his smile returned to her. “I’ll look forward to that day.”

And he did, in his own way. Where both Human and machine could live in peace with one another and be happy. That day he wanted it to be true, willed it even, but every step forward it seemed there was 70 steps back.

So Marx smiled and turned for the door. Her steps slow, calculated, and steady. The sounds of the clicks and clacks almost made the room deafening. As she reached the door and it slid open she stopped for a moment as if in thought. Not once looking back she spoke. “That Twin Unit… where would it be now?”

“Huh?” X blinked at Marx. It took him a moment to process who she meant. “You mean Brother?”

Marx’s head tilted down. “I suppose so. Sister is ‘dead’. He’s the only one.” The way she said dead made him uncomfortable. “Where would Brother be?”

 X thought for a moment. “In the Machine Barracks.” Marx made a motion to move but X continued. “You need authorization to go there. Would you like me to request Brother to meet you?”

Silence fell, then finally a reply. “If it doesn’t trouble you.” Then, she left.

* * *

 

With all the red tape that now bound Marx to her spot, it had been several months since she had gone to see the place she called home. The kingdom she loved and the place she called family. Now that she was finally able to escape the choking facility that reminded her so much of her birthplace. The needless experimentations. How sanitized everything was.

It sickened her. But being in anarchy and chaos that was Area Zero comforted her in ways that she could barely comprehend. Close she held _Immoral Delight_ in her hands and smiled. “Sister, we’re going to be home soon. With all the children we adopted.” Closing her eyes, she sighed happily.

* * *

 

White hair fell over a priestly figure. Red spilling everywhere and holding a blade of her own. It was red, tainted in blood—or was that how the blade looked? Zero was still, and so was the other as she laid there in the blazing heat. It looked as if she had been only dead for a few days. Her body was perfect on the ground. Untouched. To her side he saw Brother laid out on the ground like a raptor trying to fly. Just like how it looked in paintings of a flightless bird attempting to jump into the sky. His own oil spilled down from the ground. Jaw open as if he was screaming. Face full of fear.

Was it an accident?

He looked down at the sword that she held, her hands bloody and scarred. The sword bathed in her own blood, but not appearing as if it was used against her. He blinked down at the sword and picked it up.

It spoke, but he could not understand.

_Immoral Delight_. But the name rang different in his ear. Something else called out to him, something he couldn’t understand. So he stared and stared at the sword that was abused with blood and tried to make out what it said to him. No doubt it was a sword made from the kingdom of dreams, but this one felt older, stranger, and like a relic. The voice in this one called out differently than the ones he had previously held.

What she sung was horror.

He looked at Brother on the ground. There was pain on his face, pain that Zero could see bare. Raw emotion pooling over his featureless features. The same emotion that he saw when Sister had breathed her last. They had killed each other. The body on the floor he didn’t recognize, but he wondered what a machine had to do with a Reploid. Should he grieve? Should he bury them?

He was still as he gripped the two blades in his hands.

Was it right for him to even try to return to the life he once had? As far as he saw everyone was dying, everyone he knew was gone.

But who was gone?

Brother… Sister… but who was that other name? That other Reploid?

He wanted to cry, but no tears could ever come out. He didn’t have the ability to cry, he wasn’t like X.

He dropped to his knees to take Brother into his arms. Placing the raptor’s head onto his knees he began to pet the other’s face. Driftwood would do this, something about that he remembered. The Twin Units liked it, as did Asard sometimes also. But this action wouldn’t bring him back, nor would it bring the dead memories Zero had. How long he knelt there he wasn’t sure. Minutes, hours, days? Time bled together, and so did the names again.

Behind he left _Keeper’s Blade_ and in his hand he held Perez as he walked over the bodies towards the unknown.

* * *

 

Marx watched as Brother entered the room. Her eyes scanned the machine as it slowly walked towards Marx as if a careful predator stalking its prey. She sat on a couch, her hands neatly folded over her sister and stared softly and patiently for Brother to approach her. He stood over her, his model something to inflict fear. She wondered, had he existed when robots first made, how many would send him out on missions to inflict panic to the opposing side.

Wasn’t that their purpose anyway?

“You had requested this unit’s presence.” Brother spoke. Mechanical. Emotionless. Something she expected.

Marx smiled, “You don’t have to be formal.” Brother was still. It was like talking to a machine. She laughed. Her laughter could have split metal in half. “Do you think that… you’re a machine?”

Brother was silent as he stared rather calculating at Marx. “I am a machine. I was not created with the ability to grow beyond my boundaries and my emotions are limited to ensure top priority to the mission.”

“Is that what they told you?”

“That’s what the Brother unit was programmed to do.”

“I see,” Marx slid her hand over the flat of the blade. “Programmed.” She repeated that word, as if testing it on her tongue. She hated that word. “Then you don’t have a soul.”

“Souls are merely figments of the imagination—”

“No.” Marx shook her head and pointed at Brother. “Forget what’s been proven. Forget about programming.” She leaned forward towards Brother. “What do you feel?”

Brother was still, “This unit cannot feel anything.”

Marx leaned back, withdrawing her hand to look from Brother down to her sword. “Is that… what you felt like when you killed your sister?” She saw something within Brother move. Marx wondered if that’s why they made Twin Units out of such basic shapes. Was it to take away from their emotions? Take away from being able to show anything? It could not show sadness, hatred, rage. That face still looked the same, still looked like nothing changed. But she felt it. Felt that pain. “Nothing?”

“The Sister Unit had gone maverick so she had to be exterminated.”

Marx stared at Brother. Tried to search for something. Anything. “She felt emotion. She was becoming a Reploid—a ‘human’.”

“How do you know what Sister felt?” For a moment, Marx could have sworn that something glimmered in his eye. That there was something that made him want to run back to that failure of a mission and to save her even if he knew her body was eaten away.

Marx ran her hand over her sword, gentle and with no intention of slicing her hands upon the blade. “I knew her once. Not the Sister that died, but I knew one before. A different one. My own Sister.” They weren’t Twin Units. They weren’t even considered real sisters. But they called them that anyway, they called each other that because it was the last thing they had. Each other. “Because she was a machine, and she grew to have a personality.”

Brother was silent.

“I killed her. She killed herself to preserve me. This body is hers, and this soul…” Marx held the blade up, “…is hers.” Marx raised the blade upwards towards Brother, and he stepped away. Fear. “It was her ultimate sacrifice. When I met Sister, I saw that in her. Sister offered you that same one. But you rejected her to continue your false life.” Finally, she hugged the blade. It cut into her body and at last she felt the pain inside her. “Does that make me a Maverick? Or is it you that’s one?”

* * *

 

Zero woke up. He laid in a grassy field. A single tree swayed overhead in the breeze. The sky was blue and the sun was shadowed by a stray cloud. Sitting up he looked around, trying to determine where he was. How much time had he lost? Where was he? This didn’t look like Area Zero. He searched, eyes laying upon a woman who turned from him. Her skirt swayed in the breeze and her long brown hair waved with her clothes. She didn’t look at him, but Zero stared at her.

“Zero,” she whispered. Her voice silk and her figure delicate.

So the war machine rose from his bed of grass. As he stepped closer the world washed away. Previous anxieties and the world that he knew became nothing but his imagination from the past. Memories that he didn’t know, memories that didn’t exist or never did.

Drawing closer he could not help but furrow his brows at the figure that would not stare at him. “Who…” she reached out his hand to touch her hair. The brown strands fell through his fingers yet she stayed stationed to her spot. “Who… are…?”

His claws reached for his neck. He could speak! But even that voice fell away as the woman turned to look at him. Her face familiar, and yet so unfamiliar. The word itched to be spoken, and yet, like before, he could not say anything. She smiled, but was it really a smile?

As he woke from his slumber he stared into the sky. Body shook and he couldn’t understand why that face made him want to scream in horror. The stars glimmered and all he could do was stare. By reflex he touched his stomach, the hole was filled, he had forgotten, and yet he still tried to rip it back open just to feel his guts, to feel pain, to feel _alive_. Suddenly he stopped as if he reached a revelation. Instead of ripping up the old wound that so carefully was beginning to sprout open he reached for the new sword. It was still stained with blood—with oil.

It didn’t speak. He wondered if the soul of this sword left. So carefully he held Perez in his hands and hugged her close. The blade couldn’t cut his hands since there wasn’t any skin to cut. But there was some type of content holding this blade than the other ones he had held before.

He felt… human.

* * *

 

Stephen tapped a pen on the desk. Her hand was under her chin, staring at nothing in particular as X walked in. They kept her on desk duty to help her recuperate the damage that befell her. But she knew better. She wasn’t human, so there was no need for such _formalities_. X’s face said it all, and it was something that Stephen wasn’t surprised about.

After Driftwood… nothing seemed to surprise her anymore.

So she spoke before X could. “Couldn’t find him, huh?” X opened his mouth to reply, but instead opted to shake his head. Stephen sighed. “No sign of Marx too, huh?”

“No…” X placed something on Stephen’s desk. A claw shaped like a raptor. It was large and metallic and much too long for it to come from any animal or dinosaur they found. “That’s all I could find.” Stephen reached to pick it up, holding the heavy metal in her hands, staring at it from all angles. “Do you think he went maverick?” She cringed as X said that word.

“I… I don’t know.” She laid the claw down on the table. “After our one mission he’d been acting strange since Sister went Maverick. I’d figured it was because they were connected but I’m not sure.” Her gaze turned elsewhere, “Asard has been acting strange too. Well, stranger than usual.”

X stared down at the table, “He was close to Driftwood.”

Stephen nodded, “But I think that’s something different. Something…” she paused staring in the distance. “…else.” She blinked carefully at nothing. The world was falling apart. Their world in particular. The careful glory that 0th Squad created out of the ashes of Zero’s body tumbled down so quickly and so easily that Stephen could no longer understand what course of events destroy one another. She felt as if it was her fault, that all of it was her fault, but it wasn’t. She knew that. “I think its time I have a heart to heart with Asard.” She began to stand from her seat as X stared at her.

“Now?”

“No time is ever a good time with Asard,” she took Brother’s claw and stuffed it into a drawer. “So I’ll take my chances now.” And all X could do was stare as Stephen exited the office and made her slow way to where Asard might have been. That snake could have been in several places. His room, training, VR room, _anywhere_. Perhaps she should have requested him to enter her humble abode and talk to him on her turf, but she knew with how skittish he was becoming it would be hard to get one word out of him.

She looked in the training room and there was no snake to be found. The VR room and his very own held no results. So she chanced a question to one of those passing by and they said they might have seen a large green snake atop the roofs.

And Stephen made her way to just that place. The door opened to the roof and she saw him. He basked in the sun, the solar panels soaking up energy. He looked so much like a cat in this very moment. She was silent, and in this moment she wondered if this was the last time she’ll ever see him this calm. So she approached. Her steps calm and body rigid as Asard lifted his head up so gracefully to look towards Stephen.

“Asard,” Stephen smiled but Asard looked at her in fear. She tried to laugh at him, tried to play his fear off as something like the past. But for some reason she knew they couldn’t do that any longer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Asard didn’t reply, but turned his head to look at something else. “What do you want?”

Her smile turned bitter as she stared at Asard. _Is this… the life you’re living now?_ “I wanted to talk to you. About the mission.”

“Which one?” He didn’t look at her.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Her brows furrowed as she stared at Asard.

“Oh,” he paused. He carefully craned his neck to stare up into the sun. The light blazed all over Asard’s body. The green metal turned yellow. “You mean the one we’re not supposed t’ talk about.” Malice was laced in his voice.

“Are you upset about Driftwood?” There was no answer, “Or are you upset about… something else.” She took a step closer to Asard, but it felt more like she shuffled near him. He looked like a tiger backed into a corner as he stared knives into Stephen.

“Are you calling me Maverick?” he spat.

Stephen shook her head, “No.” She put her hands out in front of her as Asard began to curl and turn and stand on his feet. He towered over her, and if he wanted to could snap her in half. But he wouldn’t, she knew he wouldn’t. “I know you’re not a Maverick, but you have to be honest with me.” She stepped closer.

“About what?” he spat again. His claws curled in on themselves and for a moment Stephen regretted to bring Basalt. “About what?” he repeated again. His voice was full of fear.

“About the mission.”

“That doesn’t matter!” he turned away from her towards the fence of the roof. Tail swished back and forth. For a moment Stephen thought he might have taken a running leap off the building. “Driftwood is dead; the package is gone. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What about Sister?” Asard became still. As if he was frozen in place. “Didn’t you care about her?” _You’re siblings after all._

“She’s just a machine. A stupid machine.” Stephen became quiet as Asard turned around to walk back towards Stephen. “Machines don’t know how to feel; so why should I feel bad?” He was silent for a moment. “Do you think… Do you think I killed her?” Asard sneered. At least, that’s what it looked like. It was hard to tell. “Course you’d assume I had something to do with it. From an ex-Maverick like me!”

“Is that what you think I’m here to do?” Stephen crossed her arms staring at the snake who hissed and flicked his tongue at her. “I wanted to come here to talk to you about why you’ve been acting strange.” Asard drew back, “Is that what you did? Do you think you killed Sister?”

Asard was silent, and he turned away from Stephen. “Yeah.”

Stephen rubbed her face, “Well. Even if you did, like you said, it doesn’t matter anymore. Brother’s dead.” Asard didn’t react. “So even if you’re scared you’ll be labeled a Maverick, there’s no evidence for it.”

“That’s not it…”

Stephen blinked as she leaned closer to Asard unsure of what she heard. “Excuse me?”

“I said, I guess it doesn’t.” Asard turned to look at Stephen for a moment then his gaze returned to the empty fields of the Earth. It was scorched, and on a good day one could see the remnants of Eurasia.

It was one of those days.

**Do Sister and Brother dance in the desert now that they’re reunited? Are they happy together? One another? Finally singing the songs of Machine and Human, do they play in the fields of flowers that have yet to grow?**

“Take care of yourself, Asard.”

* * *

 

SISTER—BROTHER.

BROTHER—SISTER.

SISTER—DO YOU THINK WE’RE HUMAN?

BROTHER—I DON’T KNOW. BUT I WANT TO BE.

SISTER—I THINK WE CAN BE.

BROTHER—DO YOU?

SISTER—IF WE BELIEVE WE’RE HUMAN, THAT’S ENOUGH TO BE HUMAN.

BROTHER—BUT A PEACH TREE CAN’T GROW APPLES.

SISTER—MAYBE NOT. BUT IT’S THE CLOSEST WE’LL EVER BE.

SISTER—SO LETS JUST BE HUMAN.

 


	11. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is given the thing he despises by the man he wants to kill. And as he finds himself, he becomes lost deeper in the thoughts that he thought was his own.

Zero flipped a page of the book he was given. _The Life of Pi_. He never really did like to read, nor found pleasure in it, but in this moment he thought it would be fine to indulge in this small thing of life. So as he read Zero realized that the book was so much similar to his life story that he almost thought it ironic that this book was given to him. Who would have thought that after so many years there would be a book that would reflect himself? So he shot a glance at the sword by his side, squinted at it as he flipped the page of the book huddled underneath metal as the dust storm passed, and continued to read.

It still glimmered in the sun when there was no sun.

For once he felt at peace. Strangely enough it was this moment that he felt himself wash away his anxieties. He felt no sorrow, no paranoia, nothing as he sat and read peacefully the book in his hands and heard the wind blow. Often times he looked up, felt his system whisper, twitch, and continue reading as he huddled closer to the company of nothing but Perez.

His fingers twitched before there was a sound. It sounded old, sounded as if it couldn’t exist. A click. A clank. It didn’t take him long for him to realize that what he heard was machinery or a very old Reploid. He closed the book to look up and huddle closer to the metal that barely sheltered him from the dust. As he went to grab for his sword he felt Perez’s voice ring in his ears to not be afraid. It was a brief moment that he was, then the next he it was gone.

The yellow and red sand sifted through his fingers and fell back into the sea. He opened his fingers, his clawed digits opening wide to left the remaining seeds fall back as he stared deep into storm that brewed before him. A squint. A murmur. What walked forward towards him was a body he recognized, but not one that he recognized from his dreams.

“Zero?” A wolf-like figure came into sight. His icy step froze the ground below creating almost a pathway in his step as it melted away and disappeared back into nature.

“Ahh—” Zero spoke though it sounded more like a shocked inhale. Wolfang trudged through the desert, his blue form manifesting in the sand and so he crouched closer to look at Zero. Could they be friends? Or they damned to be enemies? For a moment his features lit up that he found someone in this desert that thought of him as somebody to be respected, then the memories of the past and how Gate owned Wolfang returned.

So he became still and bristled slightly. Wolfang noticed. “I didn’t come here to take you back.” Zero didn’t believe him. “I was doing recon.” The beastloid began to sit down to be eye level with Zero who still sat, his back pressed against the metal. The wind howled. “You still don’t have a voice?” He shook his head in reply to Wolfang who nodded his head solemnly. “I’m sorry for what was done to you. Had it been me I’d have left you to die.”

They all wished that.

Wolfang looked into the desert, as did Zero. “Where are you going?”

_To the abyss._

“Home?” Carefully Zero nodded his head as if he wasn’t sure. Wolfang glanced from the Reploid and back to the whirling wind. “You don’t look as if you want to go back.” He shrugged as Wolfang began to, more or less, lay down near the shelter at a rest. “I owe you, more than you can imagine. Although I am split by duty and moral I will help you one last time to amend the sins inflicted upon you.” Zero wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not, so silence ensued. Not like he could talk—but he wanted to.

_Don’t take me… back there._

The machine reached out to touch Wolfang’s body. The cold surrounded him, consuming him, and he felt human. It felt nice, something he wanted to last forever. He was brought back to laying in that icy room against the metal bed and for once in his life he wanted to return there. Not because he enjoyed the harm inflicted upon him but he missed the simple silence that Wolfang and Zero shared between each other when they sat with one another. In this simple act Zero thought that fate was a fate worse than death.

How funny was it that they should become enemies after this was over? They both knew it well that one or the other would have to kill each other in the end. The friendship that they had created was all for naught as these two friends would die tragically in each other’s bloodied arms. Never had Zero thought he’d make friends with a Maverick—a creation of the man that Zero wanted to kill—and yet as he sat there holding onto Wolfang’s arm staring at the sand he wanted to cry. For how much longer would he need to continue fighting only to kill those he had learned to care for, even if it was a little? In a way, this itself was torture, and it he wanted it to end.

So he looked at Wolfang, and Wolfang looked back at him. In their eyes they saw their end but neither of them spoke a word concerning their fate. Because that was for later when the bridge was going to be crossed, not now where they sat in peaceful silence.

So he moved Perez to sit upon his lap and let his fingers glide over the blade that shone in the sunless sky. It would be with this blade that Zero would kill Wolfang and thus leave his past forever.

So he wished.

As he sat with Wolfang hearing the wind howl he wanted to cry for all that happened. But of course no tears would come and his face would not feign any emotion. Everything was still again except the dust that blew across the never ending hell.

* * *

 

Stephen sat at her desk with her hands folded watching her squad mates slowly file out of the room leaving her and Alexander. It was in this moment she realized how empty it had gotten in the past few years and how much she missed the chaos that Zero left in his wake. Everything was neat and tidy and her heart ached at how different everything seemed when all her squad mates were in her tiny office. With the Twin Units gone, with Driftwood dead, and Asard appearing less and less over the past few days Stephen felt as if she had failed.

 And now she had a small limp that irritated her every so often that couldn’t be properly fixed cause of the lack of resources. And so she casted a downward gaze at her hands that were perfectly folded on the desk and bit her lip slightly.

“Alexander,” she murmured as the other Reploid sat down in his usual chair. He looked up for a moment as he produced a book from his pocket to read and raised his brow at her.

“Yes?” His fingers itched to open the book to read, and so she wondered what book it was that had him so excited.

“Do you see the room half full, or half empty?”

He sat to think about that for a moment, and so he mulled over what had transpired over the past few months after the initial escort. The escort that never actually happened, so they deemed. But they all didn’t know that machine became human or reploid was deteriorating to machine. They were not ignorant nor arrogant, but rather they could not wrap their heads around that it was possible. What they saw was merely death, not heaven nor hell. So Alexander opened his book flipping to the page that he left off at. “Empty. But not because I’m pessimistic, just that we’re down four members.”

Which was half. “Don’t you care?” But Stephen didn’t mean it in a way that Alexander didn’t actually care about his members, but in a way to hear that Alexander was repressing his emotions. Because that’s what they all wanted to do.

“Of course I do, but it can’t be helped. We all signed up for this.”

 _Signed up to die or was made to die._ That’s how it went, unfortunately. But Stephen wasn’t sure who had the worst end of the stick out of everyone. Those that were created just to become Hunters for the Maverick Hunters or those who were never made for such purposes that were casted into this roll for the sake of revenge or by accident. In the end, it was all horrible.

And in the end, Stephen wondered what they’re true purpose was. “I’ll need to start doing recruiting again,” Stephen murmured as she looked down at her desk.

“How are you going to go about that?” Alexander finally opened his book to start reading.

“Don’t know. Probably send out a few e-mails or go scouting.” She began to tap her fingers on the desk a little irritated. “I’m not really one for that kind of stuff.”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“No, but could you join me?”

Alexander blinked, “Are you going to ask anyone else to come with?” He turned the page.

“No. Asard doesn’t bother with the squad that much anymore unless there’s a mission. Basalt doesn’t really care. Besides everyone else is…” Dead.

“Well, no one has to get along. They just need to fulfill a purpose.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stephen waved her hand back and forth. “A purpose. Cause we’re all just a cog in the grand machine.” She sat back into her chair and stared up at the ceiling. Her thoughts lingered to Zero. “If Zero…”

“You’re not Zero.”

“I know that, just humor me.” She flicked her eyes towards Alexander who was still reading the book, then flicked her eyes back. “If he was still here, do you think stuff would have ended up differently?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think Driftwood would still be alive? And the Twins?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” she lifted her head up from the seat and stared at nothing in particular. Her voice was quiet. “But I still feel like I could have done more. That I should have known what to do. Even if it wasn’t my fault I feel so guilty.”

Alexander looked up from his book to stare straight into the wall, “How do you think everyone else feels?”

“I’m not saying that you’re not feeling the same guilt,” she looked towards him. Of course, always trying to hide it. That was Alexander, and of course Basalt too.

“We’re moving on from it.”

She stared at Alexander for a moment, watching him look at her then back to the book he was reading a moment ago. A thick silence descended down and it somehow felt horrible but normal all the same. So Stephen laid her head down upon the desk to settle it upon her arms and stare at nothing because there was nothing to do right now. Finally, a whisper from her lips. “But… are you really?”

* * *

 

Wolfang stopped as Zero kept walking. A few steps later the Reploid looked back towards the Bestloid with his brow quirked slightly. An unspoken ‘well?’ from his lips as the wolf stared to and fro from Zero to the unending desert. It was his final destination. So he shook his head and looked at Zero. “This is as far as I can go.” He blinked as the moon was held high in the sky. “If I go any farther Gate will know. I don’t want to put you through anymore.”

He was talking about a potential capture. So Zero turned his body slightly to look at Wolfang. The look in his eyes spoke all and the wolf wanted to howl a laughter. Which almost seemed ironic.

“I know what you’re thinking. How could I stay with Gate. But I owe him a debt.” He brought his paw up to his chest, the long claws almost scraping against his torso as he looked downward almost in pain. “You understand.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. But unlike Zero he wasn’t bound by the unspoken laws of debt and repayment. He was bound by the words to kill that slowly ushered into his mind so slowly and carefully like it used to be. The system was clicking back into place and soon his mind would be overwhelmed by the lights and updates of death and murder. But that’s how it goes.

Zero nodded his head anyway.

“I owe Gate my life. Like I do to you.” Wolfang motioned towards Zero. “I’ll try everything to keep him away from you, but if I ever see you on the battlefield I will have no choice…” he trailed off but the words were already so plain.

_I’ll have to kill you too._

Two brothers in arms forced to fight each other. How funny it was to see one another across the unseen line. The moon shimmered in the sun and lit the night. He saw Wolfang’s invisible tears and so did Wolfang see Zero’s. Because after all of this they were friends in a sense. It would be the first and last time they would see one another as a friend, that much Zero knew, and deep down in his heart, deep down in whatever soul he had, he knew it was wrong for fate to do that.

So they stood there until something howled in the distance and broke the silence they had between each other that was so much like a conversation. It was time to finally leave. So Wolfang turned away and never looked back as Zero still stared as he walked off. In his mouth a word began to form in his mouth but nothing came but the dust that filled his lungs and the painful screams of agony that he wanted to release unto the world for tearing him away from something again.

He shut his mouth before any other noise could escape him. So like Wolfang he turned on his heels towards where Wolfang left him. Perhaps it was to home or hell. In the end he didn’t really care at this point. He just wanted his death back.

From afar Wolfang stopped to look up at the moon again once more. He paused for a few seconds as he stared up at the moon in contemplation. A moment later he clicked something on his wrist for one of the lines to pick up. Dr. Gate’s voice drifted onto the line. “Wolfang, have you found him?”

Wolfang was silent for a moment. “No. The cannibals got to him. There’s nothing left but blood.”

“Blood? That’s all?” Gate’s voice was rising almost in hushed anger.

“Yes. Everything else is destroyed beyond repair. There’s no point to bring anything back. Not a single piece of DNA was left.”

There was silence for a moment. It sounded as if Gate was fuming but a minute later his voice returned back into the COM. “I see. Return back to base. We’ll begin our second phase then.”

A click later and silence ensued. Wolfang looked back at the moon. Finally, his friend was gone. Dead in the eyes of the world except himself. But he knew should Zero return it would mean death by Gate or death by Zero himself. It was what was ‘written’ and would never change. So he hoped it would be Zero that killed him.

He lowered his head. “I sent you home so you could go back to war.” The Beastloid closed his eyes almost ashamed of himself. “You’ll have to fight a little while longer. I hope long enough to kill me.”

So Wolfang turned to return home.


	12. Insomnia's Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night only brings demons. More and more they crumble over each other to reach the dead man walking.

Since Wolfang had left Zero had resumed his tireless expedition. Walking over his feet, tripping sometimes once or twice, he continued. _The Life of Pi_ had been discarded long ago and often times he found himself laying in the burning sun heating up and over. In this situation he found it almost similar to the beginning that he had started with. Except now his guts weren’t spilling over his arms and he had somewhere to go. Still, he wasn’t sure where, and it seemed like an aimless journey he was making at this point.

It had been awhile since he had shut his eyes to sleep. Weeks, months, years? Time blended together again. He hardly cared to ask how long he had been wandering this hellish terrain but he could only assume it had been months. Now that he was back here again he wondered again how long it had been.

He only stayed awake so the nightmares wouldn’t return to him. The body of Iris upon this scared realm left a lasting image and sometimes he could see her standing there staring at him with those large pleading eyes. And if he looked downward her dead brother would lay at his feet for it to disappear into dust.

It was only natural to assume that if he were to sleep then his mind would be plagued by the lasting images and feelings of reliving through that fateful day and more.

But not even a war machine could deny himself sleep. So he did dream as he walked. The haze of death and burning metal filling his soul as he remembered those horrible things. The last moments of his life and even to his birth stained his mind. He tried to shake himself awake from that daze to blink down at his hands that were stained with slight green of his own blood that was oil. Then further he would stare down at his chest to see that gaping hole in his chest of his lost heart.

Though he wasn’t sure if he lost one heart or two.

As time passed and his waking dreams further haunted him Zero further fell into a downward spiral of death and insomnia. To sleep was to let the dreams win over him, and to do that meant that he would fully lose himself.

He looked down at Perez in his hands that began to drag against the dirt. The husk of his own body beginning to sleepwalk across the forbidden desert as those machines began to look upon him licking their teeth.

Should someone look at him from afar they might have assumed he was a walking corpse than someone who was sleepwalking. His feet shuffled in the sand and he had begun to stop caring for his body again like he had been before. There was one part of his mind that submitted to this fate and would rather fall upon the ground to let the sand bury him. Yet the one piece of him that wanted to continue fighting for life he hated and despised as he walked further into the moonlight or sun.

He was so tired and would rather sleep forever, yet his mind forced himself to keep walking.

It was painful, but what else could he do?

So with a sigh, with a huff, and a pained grunt, he trudged onward back into the unknown. As he looked up into the far distance he thought he saw himself, and because of that a small pained smile crossed his lips as he thought it was the same old hallucinations beginning to kick in.

How he longed for them to die.

* * *

 

Asard walked outside the base and back onto the dirt road leading to nowhere in particular. Though the area was littered with iron and cranes in an attempt to rebuild the very place that was once destroyed no one was really doing anything. It’s what one would call the husk of a building. And although everyone was trying to make the surface livable it was near impossible seeing as how the entirety of Area Zero was a living nightmare that no one wanted to touch or try to clean up, Asard included.

What Asard looked at was a ghost of a city. There were some Reploids hanging about the giant skeletons of buildings. Laughing and saying that they were working but in reality they weren’t. Their legs swung to and fro atop of the large iron and it was obvious they were friends.

As Asard looked upon this friendship he wretched to think about how he left Sister and Driftwood to die alone. That it was his fault, that he didn’t know what he was thinking. So he wished he could go back in time to change the past and save Driftwood and Sister by sacrificing himself.

He scowled at the friends laughing together and turned his entire body away from the group to sulk. He kept walking on, turning and twisting through the dead city trying to get away from his thoughts and fears. Some way he hoped that through his twists and turns he’d be able to run from the lies he had spun. Perhaps he was paranoid, perhaps he should have told everyone that it was Sigma’s body that was inside the truck.

But what did it matter? The cannibals would have eaten it all up anyway. The glass bottles and preserved almost flesh body neatly packed away would have made a fine feast. He shivered thinking back to those old days. He remembered the past, remembered Sigma and bowing to his every move. He hated it and that very man. So it was for the best anyway that he blew it up otherwise they would have tried to save him.

So he wondered about the fallout.

Those that commissioned him would know what was in that truck and point fingers at someone. Would it be Signas who would then point the finger at Asard himself? The thought was shaken out of his head before it tried to bud. Though the seed was obviously planted, a seed that would split into a beautifully disgusting flower.

So he kept walking trying to ignore those Maverick-like thoughts in favor of the city that was more like death. From the corner of his eye he saw something purple but figured it was a trick of the light. It had to be since it looked so much like Zero—who was dead. Asard barked a sudden laughter as he thought about the dead reploid. His screech of laughter almost sounded as if he were in pain. It had been so long since he thought of his ex-commander. So as he walked so did the figure that trailed behind him stalking him.

It was only a few minutes later that Asard finally turned around annoyed. “Alright,” he sighed. “What do you want with me? You got beef? Told ya, I ain’t in no more mafias so leave it be.” He rolled his eyes expecting it to be the one old gangs that would claim there was a debt when there was none. But he was taken aback to see who stood in front of him hunched over and licking his teeth. “Z-Zero!?”

The body stood up straight and proud. The purple armor gleamed in the neon light near them. The pale features and even paler hair was a stark contrast to the normal Zero that Asard knew: dark skin, scars, and even brighter red of armor. The beastloid gulped and stared at ‘Zero’ with eyes nearly bulging and mouth ajar.

“No.” Asard shook his head. “No, you’re… dead.” He shook his head again staring at him. The beastloid took a step back away from the other. “You some ghost?” he laughed. “Where’s Driftwood at? And Sister?” Asard laughed even louder. “Here to take me like you did Brother?”

Perhaps if he looked close enough he could see them standing behind Zero.

“Do you want to see them?” Zero spoke. A smile on his face. It wasn’t serene or forced like the smile Asard was used to. It was something like another animal.

As desperately Asard wanted to nod his head and say yes to be taken to them, he didn’t want to die. “The hell you talkin’ about!?” A growl emitted from Asard’s throat. He stepped forward towards Zero as if it would scare him off. The panels at his neck fluttered like some cobra and he bared his few snake-like teeth. “You here to kill me?”

But instead of yelling at him back Zero shook his head softly side to side. “No, why would I do that to my _friend_?” That single word made Asard flinch. It didn’t feel natural to say at all, as if the Zero before him was trying to pretend that it was such. “You can see them,” he took out something. A vial of some sort was between his fingers. It almost looked as if there was a strand of DNA within it. “You won’t die.”

Asard stared at the other skeptically. He looked over the other again. Up and down. His eyes pierced the other’s ‘soul’ and he wondered who this reploid was. “Is it... really you?” Asard squinted at the other.

“Is it?” he replied.

Maybe it was a hallucination. But unlike the real Zero, Asard wasn’t like him. What were illusions or mind tricks he hated so instead of laughing and taking the vial Asard growled once again. “Wrong answer,” came a hiss. So he leapt at the other. Mouth open ready to snap the other in half with his jaw. The Zero jumped to dodge and jumped on the shell of a building. The iron creaked as he stared down at Asard who began to try to climb up the large building. Farther and farther, higher and higher. His green body slithered against the metal, the neon lights reflecting against Asard’s body. The red against his body. Bright. “I’ll kill you.” He hissed as he climbed atop the iron. His claws against the iron tapped against it.

The Zero stared at Asard for a moment, then gave a small laugh as he held out the vial as if reaching out his hand for Asard to take. “Don’t you want to see them again?” Asard tensed for a moment, staring. He did want to see them again, but was this the way he wanted to see them? “I know you do.” Zero drew back his hand. It was swift. He barely saw it.

One moment he stood a few meters away and the next the Zero was in front of Asard taking the vial and throwing it into Asards face. The glass shattered and Asard stumbled back nearly losing his footing. For a few seconds he scratched and swiped at his face getting the glass and attempting to pull whatever was in the bottle off. There was nothing on his face and yet he felt as if something was wrong.

A blink.

A second later.

He stared down in front of him to see that Zero was gone and he was alone atop the iron with just broken glass and some type of headache. The snake looked from side to side then grabbed his head as the headache pulsed. He dragged his claws against his snout and over his cobra-fins and shook his head from side to side to see the world spin around him. The red neon almost blinded him and his world began to appear in shades of blacks and reds. “What…?” he whispered to himself.

So he slowly laid against the iron and began to attempt to slither off the skeleton building to be on more solid ground. Needless to say Asard slipped and fell onto the cement and heard something crack off from his body as he moaned in pain. As Asard writhed on the pavement he looked down the alleyway to see Zero standing there at the end bathed in red and black. A smile on his face as if pleased with the results. So he spoke something into his COM, words that Asard couldn’t comprehend, and walked out of Asard’s vision as the silhouette of Driftwood then stood there.

Was this a nightmare?

* * *

 

Stephen smacked her hand against her forehead and signed. She closed her eyes and knitter her brow as Alexander spoke to her reporting the details. But only one word came out her mouth. “So Asard went AWOL?”

Alexander was silent for a moment. It was strange he didn’t reply as quick as a whip but chose to actually stay silent for a moment or two. Eyes darted from one side to the other as if uncomfortable. “No,” Alexander spoke carefully. “Maverick.”

Stephen thinned her lips as Alexander handed the datapad to Stephen. She took it staring at the words that didn’t seem to make sense as her mind seemed to lift outside her mind. How did this happen? “Maverick…” Stephen repeated the words as if testing it on her tongue. She blinked down at the soft blue light and it almost seemed as if her hands were going to snap the pad in half. “That can’t be right.”

“He was acting strange,” Alexander folded his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t Maverickism.” She looked up to Alexander, “He was upset over his friends dying.”

“The report is there.”

“I know.” She squinted at the pad as if doing that would make the words change. There was always a bias. Always something more. Stephen berated herself for not catching the hints of his strange attitude—but even still he was mourning! He was upset! He wanted his friends back!

She looked up as Basalt managed to crawl his way into the room. His gigantic body nearly taking up all the space as he looked down at Alexander then to her. His eyes spoke the pain. “It’s true?” Stephen stared at Basalt silently as Alexander pursed his lips. The silence was sickening.

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” Basalt looked to the side away from Stephen as she still stared at him. “Then that means…”

“Yeah.”

The silence ensued as Stephen managed to pry her eyes away from Basalt to read the report. She almost wanted to laugh and be sent to another time. She wanted to go back to the past. To read reports like this and tell Zero everything she could in a way he would remember and retain. For them all to sit around and laugh to be merry. But she pulled herself from those thoughts to hand the pad to Basalt who took it in his hands that were too big to be hands.

He stared at the report.

“They want us to kill him.” Stephen leaned her back against the desk as Alexander spoke. Her clawed fingers dug into the wood.

“Not someone else?” Basalt looked at Alexander.

Stephen shook her head. “He’s too…. Dangerous.” She didn’t like saying that word. Her brows knitted and she frowned. “Pisses me off that we have to hunt down our own friend.”

Basalt was silent before looking down at the pad. “Can’t we ask X to do it?”

Stephen chewed her tongue. “We could. But… I don’t know. It feels like our responsibility too.” She shook her head and then hung it down. “We could ask for his help— _I_ could ask for his help.”

They all didn’t want to kill his friend.

It was beginning to sink into their minds.

“I hate it,” Alexander said finally. The little bit of emotion seeped out of his tongue. The anger and pain was palpable. They wondered why it happened. Basalt handed back the pad to Stephen who looked at it for a second more.

“Why can’t we capture him?” Basalt looked at Stephen. It wouldn’t be the first time they would tie him down to calm him.

“I don’t know. But Signas wants to talk to me about it.” She shrugged as she set the datapad behind her on the desk.

“A **private** meeting,” Alexander glanced at Stephen.

“Classified one,” Stephen rubbed her forehead. Even if she got the answers she wanted she couldn’t talk about what it she realized. It almost felt like a double edged sword she was about to hold in her hands.

“Don’t keep him waiting,” Basalt motioned to the door and moved out the way.

Stephen pushed herself off the desk and gave him a bitter smile. “I won’t.”

* * *

 

Stephen sat at the large oak table. Synthetic. Fake. She felt the weight of the world upon her shoulders as Signas sat on the other side staring at her as if it was all her fault that this happened. Her head was held high and she tried not to tremble as she looked at Atlus. Neither of them smiled, the formalities gone, and hatred burned.

Signas felt it and that hatred was returned for Stephen’s hatred was burning for a reason he understood. So he folded his hands over the fake table and thinned his lips as Stephen sat with her hands on her lap and eyes burning with a flame that wouldn’t die. And inside Stephen laughed because it wouldn’t be the first time that the Hunters screwed her over.

“You called me here, Signas.” Her voice was almost like a bite.

“Yes.” He nodded his head. “About Asard...” He looked down at the information in front him about the Maverick. “Our previous clients that issued the mission for the escort came to talk to us a few days ago.”

“Did they?” Stephen blinked but her face didn’t change.

Signas nodded. “Asard told us that inside were weapons. I had assumed weapons of mass destruction. But they told us it was something else.” Signas leaned forward. “Sigma.”

Stephen turned pale if a machine could even do that. “Sigma?” she repeated the word as if it was a horrible slur. “No… that’s not—”

“It is.”

“Then…” She looked down. A second later her hands slammed down on the table nearly breaking it. Her teeth gritted and her face was in a fury of rage, the same rage that all Mavericks who know who she was feared. The very same rage that spurred her to break bones in half and tore open Mavericks. It was the rage of the very inside that made the very table beneath her quake. “Is that why he’s Maverick? Because he _lied_?”

Signas seemed unmoved. “Sit back down.” Stephen was unmoved for a few seconds until finally she did. Her body was slow to return to the chair and the large table looked worse for wear than it did a few seconds ago. “Yes and no. Initially we were going to have a private meeting with him to discuss the punishment of his lies. We had assumed that Asard ran away which is why we wanted to bring him back, **at first**.” Stephen raised her brow as Signas slid over a clear bag. Stephen spun it around on the table and stared at the shards of glass within. “Until that was found at the scene.”

She furrowed her brows. “It’s just glass.”

Signas shook his head, “No. A virus.” Stephen flinched as she took her hand off the bag. “He’s infected.”

Stephen sputtered a laugh, “How would _you_ know if he’s infected or not with some virus?”

“He killed a reploid on tape.” Stephen’s insides were beginning to drop. Signas shook his head almost in pity, “I’m sorry.”

So Stephen sighed and pressed her hand against her forehead. She didn’t want this to be true. “And this is classified because of the virus, isn’t it?” She laughed, “I’m leading my Hunters into a death trap.” She began to dig her fingers into her head.

“X will be assigned to your squad temporarily.”

“What good will it do? He might be immune but we’re cattle for slaughter.” She looked up to watch Signas close his eyes and shake his head.

“There’s nothing I can do. You’re the best we have, and unfortunately the only ones capable of doing anything.” There was a deathly silence, “It’s a suicide mission.”

“I’m aware. I’d just think that, should I die, it wouldn’t be because of a virus.” Even if Stephen wanted to die--- even if they all wanted some time of death, it wasn’t this death that they wanted. She gripped her chair. “Will my squad know about the virus?”

Signas was silent for a moment too long and that itself said a million words. “Yes and no. They’ll only be informed that there’s a new virus but that’s all we can tell them—that’s all we know.” It was the only truthful confession that Stephen would get out of Signas, at least for a while longer. And they both knew how much they pitied each other at that very moment.

To be killed by a fellow Hunter terrified her. She wondered how Asard felt.

* * *

 

The door closed behind Wolfang as he entered the room that Gate usually resided. He shook his entire body almost like a wolf to rid the dust that was in his metallic mane and looked about the place. It was cleaner but the mess was still there. Green oil from Zero’s initial escape stained the floor and the black oil from where Sister died stained it also. He frowned as he looked at the floor for a moment before approaching Gate who talked merrily to High Max. Wolfang wanted to turn to walk away but he had a job, an obligation, so he walked closer.

Gate blinked and rose his brow as he turned to look at Wolfang who stood. “Ah, Wolfang. I heard the news.”

Wolfang nodded his head, “Yes. Forgive me, Dr. Gate. I couldn’t save him.”

But Gate waved his hand back and forth as if the matter didn’t bother him anymore. But it did, Wolfang could see it clearly in his face the way he almost nearly twitched at thinking that his masterpiece was gone forever. “No matter. I’m sure Metal Shark Player can do something about it.”

A zombified version of Zero disgusted Wolfang and he nearly wanted to wretch. “Of course,” Wolfang averted his eyes away from Gate as the reploid turned around to continue talking to High Max. All of it made him sick.

“Wolfang.” Gate waved to him without even looking. “Be a dear and open the teleporter up for Nightmare.” So Wolfang did what he was told even if he didn’t want to do anything that Gate told him to do. After seeing Zero suffer for so long all he wanted was his friend to be happy and safe away from all of this. A button or two was pressed and Wolfang stared at the teleporter waiting for Nightmare to return from whatever mission it was sent on and then lock it once more. The purple reploid eventually manifested within the teleporter and Wolfang promptly locked it up, even if he wanted to keep it open so someone—or something—could come in and trash Gate’s lab. Gate stared at Nightmare with a smile on his face. “How did the mission go?”

“According to plan,” Nightmare smiled.

And Gate smiled his sickening smile as he pressed his hands together. “This will be the last time all of us will be together. We’re going through with the plan now.” Wolfang blinked at Gate who turned to him with a smile. “Be sure to tell everyone.” Wolfang still stared at Gate who was taken aback for a moment before frowning. “Is something the matter?”

A second passed before Wolfang inhaled and sighed. “I just want to know one thing,” Wolfang lowered his head slightly. “The survivability rate.”

Gate blinked once or twice at Wolfang before huffing a laugh as if the question was absurd and there was no way anyone could lose. “There’s a one in four chance you may die,” Gate brought his hand to his chin to rub it in thought. “Should the outcome of our plan of domination go as planned, then there’s nothing we need to worry.” Gate smiled at Wolfang, “X is nothing without Zero.”

_You would be nothing without him too._


	13. People Love Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the deepest part of my soul, I’m happy.

When Zero woke up it was somewhere in a ditch. His hands were against his shoulders and the fabric that the children gave him had already begun to fall apart. A coldness was within his body so much akin to death as the heat that began to swallow Zero hold tore him apart. A shallow breath escaped his mouth as his eyes slowly opened to look back up into the sky. The stars twinkled, the darkness grew, and somewhere over the horizon the sun began to rise. Slowly he rose to sit and he adjusted his legs to sit crisscross.

Carefully he began to look back and forth, searching for something in the emptiness of the desert. From is left was where all the metal of Area Zero was, and everywhere else there was nothing but dirt or dust. Somewhere within there he could see all that he met in that hell. In the distance he saw a body and his first reaction was to twist away from it as if another thing out here besides himself made him sick. It was a shame he couldn’t call out to the other, to bid the other a hello or ask them where to go.

So eventually he stood up to stare at the person who held a weapon and walked towards him slowly. His eyes adjusted for a moment then recognized the person as who he knew before. One of the children—at least that’s what he tried to recall.

Zero didn’t know if he should say hello or duck as the sword nearly sliced his neck. Ferhat scowled at Zero with her sword held high above her head. She snarled. “You killed her!” Zero could only blink at what that meant. Did she mean Sister? Because it was what he believed that he truly had done. He took a few steps back shaking his head in confusion. “Don’t play dumb. You killed mother and took her sword.”

So she pointed at the sword Zero held in his hand and the machine looked down at it. A second later Ferhat jumped at him again to which Zero defended. The system, the war in his mind, it screamed to kill her and yet he still tried to reject that instinct to kill. He clutched the sword and nearly thought he would have broken the hilt.

He didn’t want the sword anyway.

As he tried to move away his body still kept walking forward. The hand the sword held moved on its own and the innate urge to survive swelled within him. As he both commanded to live he both commanded to die. It was in this perpetually state of life and death that he closed his eyes in attempt to will himself to flee or to groan something that might have been words to talk. Yet in these moments he thought to himself that he was not X, he was not a pacifist, and his life would be eternally drenched in blood. He clenched his eyes tighter before feeling something, hearing something, then opening his pretty blue eyes to look down at his sword.

Upon it, Ferhat. Her sickly sweet smile was gone as she choked up oil and spat everywhere as blood gushed and she writhed upon the sand as Zero held his blade. Oil spurted up like blood tainting the simple clothes Zero wore. He let go of the blade, letting it sit in her body as she fell to the ground writhing upon the dirt. Her groans of pain escaped her and she pulled and tugged at the blade as if attempting to get it out but her hands slipped across it only spreading the blood and cuts. Yet the blade that pierced her knew these cuts so well. It was the same cuts that the sword’s sister would always make.

“Mother,” she whispered as blood pooled from her wounds. Her cries of pain echoed throughout the desolate desert and all Zero could do was watch her suffer through her agonizing death. She would die, eventually. Her body became still and the life in her eyes left as all Zero could do was stare at the oily pool and her body strewn across the ground like a painting.

_Did I kill your mother?_

So he walked over, stepping into the thick pool of ‘blood’ and grabbing the hilt of the blade to take it out of her body. For a moment he felt Ferhat’s presence, the last energy within her body. She still trying to speak, “I want… Mother.” She reached out to Zero as if he were that mother.

_No. I’m not her. I’m just death._

Her fingers twitched as a droplet of oil dripped to join the pool. “Why… Why did you… Kill her?”

_Did I kill her?_

“I just… wanted to be happy.” And finally a groan of something. She arched her body not to Zero, not to the sword of “Mother”, but to the sun.

Her life was gone.

_I’m sorry._

Zero looked down at the sword and scowled. All of this bloodshed, just to be a little human, to have a mother. So he crouched next to Ferhat’s body and gently placed her mother in her arms while closing her mouth and eyes to let the body be at least somewhat presentable to those in the afterlife—or even presentable to those cannibals. The wind blew and he thought of Sister and Brother, how he lost his siblings. If was that recollection of those raptor machines that made him think farther back. A distant memory in his mind. A boy clad in black armor looking down at him with a curled snarl and folded arms, but in his eyes were happiness.

The memory faded as if he grabbed a handful of sand and let it sift through his fingers.

He crouched a little longer staring at the body before lifting himself to his feet and staring out into the distance. There was nothing, but it was where he was still told to go. Reluctantly he moved forward, one step after the other, and so he walked towards the future.

It was this moment of reflection that he began to realize what it was Gate had gifted him. And it was that reflection that made him nearly weep for the end.

_If I ever were a Mother… I hope my children would kill me._

* * *

 

Asard tapped his nails against the iron. The building that soon would be rebuilt gleamed as a beacon of future in the rising sun but he only wanted to tear the whole damn thing apart. So he stalked the platforms and killed anyone who dared to enter. He took possession of those Mechaniloids—those machines—and turned them against those humans and Reploids alike. The higher the sun rose the more power he was to gain. So he laughed and laughed at those he slaughtered and saw slaughtered as he stared down upon those on the ground.

A smile was on his face as he stared, only for it to disappear upon seeing Driftwood.

Then he could only cry.

* * *

 

Stephen had her hands folded on her lap as Alexander drove their car up to take point. Opposite of her was X who she calmly eyed the saber that was once Zero’s in his lap. She didn’t say a word, but the sight of it made her body lit aflame with things she wanted to say in light of half her squad dying or set to be on the block. Her helmet was beside her slightly jumping within the truck.

X saw that in her face, and it almost seemed like he wanted to say something. Yet the look from Basalt said otherwise so he chose to stay silent. The sheer amount of tension in the car didn’t help as it felt like an invisible line was about to snap which would have broken the whole world in half. Stephen only looked at the little space above X as if to concentrate on the mission to kill Asard and yet that itself made her want to tear her body in half. The bumps on the road helped her mood no less as it made her leg act up in the slightest.

A frown crossed her lips as she looked down at X in full. “You have to kill him,” she blurted out. There was an obvious poison on her tongue when she said that. The bitterness of Signas’ words never leaving her mind and made her grip her hands tighter together. Basalt and Alexander were silent.

X frowned at the potential bloodshed. His brows furrowed for a moment as he gripped the saber tighter in his hands and looked down at it. “I know,” he murmured. Stephen didn’t know if it was more ironic that X was the one to kill him or it was Zero’s saber that would ultimately do the trick to laid Asard to rest.

Her fingers twitched as she resumed to staring at the small spot above X’s head. “I hate it more than you, you know.” A sneer crossed over her face for a moment before looking back at X. “I’d kill him myself. I don’t want to do it, but I would. He’s my responsibility.” The truck kept driving. The equipment rattled slightly as X looked up at Stephen’s cold hard face. “I don’t know if I consider myself lucky or not.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured in reply. Yet his sorrow was met with a hiss from Alexander and a shift from Basalt. Stephen didn’t seem that amused by it either.

“I feel more sorry for you,” Basalt replied. Stephen reached over to tug at some cables and slowly insert them into the plug ins within her body. Each one at a time. They twirled in her finger as the information flowed within her. The data came spilling inward as she closed her eyes to absorb all the information. “I just wish one of us could be there to console him when he dies.”

_That’s right. He’s so scared to die._

Stephen looked down to her feet.

_I’m sorry, Asard._

* * *

 

X jumped out of the back of the truck and stared at Basalt and Stephen. She stood at the ridge of the back looking down at X as she held toward him a gun. It was a rifle meant to penetrate the armor of Asard, made by his own company to take down their flesh and blood. He took it but as he barely touched the metal of it his stomach flipped and he wanted to puke. Stephen could see his inner turmoil. He brought the gun to his side as Stephen walked back over to pick up some other things to give to X. Ammunition, bombs of all types, and a case should there need to be emergency repairs. He nodded at her before she turned.

“Wait, there’s one more thing,” she spoke before X could run into the buildings to begin his assault. He raised his brow as she bent over again to give him a chip.

“What’s this?” he grabbed the small thing.

“A diagram of Asard,” she motioned to his hand. “A present from his parent company.” The sound of that left a bad taste in X’s mouth. “His weaknesses and strengths are there.” X nodded before placing the chip within his arm. He was about to turn again before Stephen motioned towards him for a him to wait. “Before you go, I have a favor.”

There was a small pause before X answered. “What is it?”

“Be quick,” she began to squat. “I don’t want him to suffer like Driftwood. He’s…” Stephen looked to the side trying to find the right words. “He doesn’t _want_ to die. We all joke about committing some type of suicide or joke about dying on one mission or another, but Asard is terrified about what happens after death.” X stared at her. He knew what she meant. Zero too was terrified of the afterlife yet he joked of the beyond like everyone else. But when X cradled Zero’s body in his hands he knew the fear instilled in him, a fear that he never spoke and a fear that he always ignored himself. “Be gentle with him, when he dies.”

There was a smile on X’s face. A bitter smile. “Don’t worry,” he reached up to grasp Stephen’s hand. “I’ll make sure he’s not alone.” He gave Stephen’s hand a squeeze as she stared down at him. Her face was full of remorse and he could see in her face that she didn’t want this. If she could she’d let Asard go to live somewhere he would be happy, but she couldn’t. They all knew that they needed to kill Asard even if they all knew in the end it didn’t need to end this way. Eventually he let go of her hand and ran towards the building to begin his assault.

Every step he took towards his mission the heavier his legs began to feel. Each time he picked up his leg it almost felt like he was wringing himself from slime to step closer. The closer he drew, the farther it seemed. As he blinked it seemed years went by. A hole in his chest grew as did his hopes and dreams.

“ _X?_ ” he heard a voice.

“Alia,” he spoke to nothing in particular.

“ _0 th Squad began their assault._” She spoke those words and X’s mouth was slightly agape. How long had he been in the air? Where had his mind gone those minutes? “ _You should be able to sneak in the building without having to worry about as many Mavericks._ ”

X quickly regained his mind with a small shake of his head. The blood and death always seemed to inflict some type of disassociation upon his mind. So with a couple of smacks against his helmet he regained his composure. “Roger that, Alia.” He slipped into the iron buildings. He ducked this way and that to avoid the line of sight of the machines that were inflicted with a virus or were merely hacked by another to do Asard’s bidding. Part of X hoped that he wouldn’t see one of Asard’s Maverick friends from long ago and was pleasantly surprised that none had come to Asard’s aid.

He jumped from one red iron to the other, the weapon that would mean Asard’s death was held tightly in his hands as X almost wished for the thing to disappear. He wanted it to be quick, wanted it to all be over, at least for Asard’s sake if not for everyone else’s. A machine tried to attack him during his contemplation to which he easily blasted it with his arm cannon. So he continued his journey higher into the building where Asard laid.

_Zero, did you know it’d end up like this? With everyone dead?_

**Maybe.**

He paused for a moment and crouched down to begin setting up for his ruthless assault upon the beastloid. He inserted the chip within his interface and began to take the gun out to prep. Carefully he took a wire attached to the gun and connected it to his neck and slowly began to become accommodated to the mechanics that would eventually end Asard’s life. A second later he hefted the gun to his side once more slinging the strap over his body and jumped closer to where the snake curled his body.

X landed on a platform and Asard looked up from his fetal position and barked a laugh. It was shrill and X wanted to cover his ears to make it stop. “X!” Asard hissed. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to have a reason to kill you!”

The words almost sounded like Asard. Perhaps X shouldn’t have replied, perhaps he should have stayed silent, but he was compelled to speak. “Why are you doing this?” A stupid question that should have gotten a stupid answer.

“Because everyone is gone! Driftwood is gone! Sister is gone!” Asard howled. “It’s my fault! It’s all my fault! Do you know what was in there? What _they_ made me protect? The machine that turned me into this! Turned me into a trustless snake!” He pressed his hands to his chest, his scales shimmering. “I could have been happy, happy if Sigma didn’t do this to me. I see how you all look at me. An ex-Maverick. Scum just as bad as Vile!” A scowl came across his face as he smashed his hand against the iron. “I’m sick of it. Sick of what you all did to Driftwood.” He smashed his hand against the iron again, and again, and again. “Your fault! Your fault!” the words rung from his mouth like a mantra and X wasn’t sure if it was X’s fault or spoke the words that Asard most feared hearing.

“Asard—!” X took a step closer. Sorrow began to settle into his heart. But Asard would not hear any of it. He took the iron he smashed his hand against and pulled it from the building throwing it to X. The Hunter jumped out of the way as Asard dragged his claws down against his scales hard enough that it scarred.

“No! Shut up! I won’t—I can’t do it.” His tail smashed against the platform and he began to prepare to fling his body at X. “I’m living a nightmare because of you!” He lifted his hands from his head and stared up from the floor to X. There was a moment of silence as X stared at Asard. “–And I’ll kill you for that.”

The beastloid jumped for X who managed to dodge out of the way to sit upon an iron bar. The Hunter began to scramble for his gun. His hands automatically gripped where he should but his mind was elsewhere that made it near impossible to focus as Asard screamed. The snake latched onto the beam that X knelt on as he attempted to shoot Asard. He missed only barely as his hand wobbled when Asard’s body hit against the metal making X lose his body. The snaked clawed to get up on the beam and used his tail in attempt to swipe X off his feet. Electricity sparked all around Asard as the ex-Hunter began to ready himself to jolt X to death.

What happened next X didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he should have considered himself lucky or considered himself a failure. As he leapt away from the iron to somewhere else the beastloid grabbed onto X’s legs and threw him against the beam that Asard was on. The snake laughed, an unseen grin upon its face as it leaned downward towards X. He took the gun that X held with all his might and squeezed. It broke underneath Asard’s grip and the snake leaned closer to X opening his jaws to show his teeth.

There was a hiss. “Stupid…” With Asard’s other arm he took X by the neck and raised him upward. The grip was nearly enough to snap his head off. The Hunter struggled against the pressure. He kicked and attempted to scratch at Asard as his other hand tugged experimentally at X’s arm. A moment later Asard pulled X’s arm right off his body and threw him across the way to the platform that they had originally stood one at their meeting.

“Augh!” came a grunt from X as he rolled over a few times on the platform. Asard leapt from the iron to the wood. It creaked underneath the pressure and the snake laughed at X’s pain. He tossed the arm to the side as he walked closer to X. The Hunter tried his best to crawl away or to pick himself up from the ground to fight. As the steps neared panic began to slowly set in within him. The hatred Asard had for X was genuine, and it almost reminded him of Sigma. He closed his eyes as he tried to heave himself upward but became slightly surprised that the footsteps stopped.

Confusion was first to take hold as X heard small droplets hit the wood. So he turned his body to look at Asard stand there staring lifeless at X. Oil dripped from his mouth and a saber had split a hole into Asard’s stomach. The sickly green fit well against Asard’s metallic body. A few seconds later the humongous beastloid toppled over smashing its body next to X. Somehow Asard as still alive as he began to sputter things from his mouth, things X couldn’t recognize.

**His death would be slow.**

X scrambled over to Asard, cupping the snake’s face as he suffered.

**Don’t let him suffer.**

X grit his teeth as he looked up to who it was that ended Asard’s life so horribly. Anger flared in his face as he turned. A question of anger might have slipped from his mouth if the words were caught in his throat in the first place. Standing there before him was Zero. Bathed in purple and the oil of Asard he stood with a grin on his face. All X could do was stare with his mouth opened, the silent wails of Asard to his side and the creaking of metal and wood were the only noises.

“Zero?” X whispered.

Asard squirmed. “Z-Zero?” he craned his head slightly to look where X stared. “Why… did you do that?”

The ‘Zero’ did not say anything, but instead walked closer to X and Asard. It wasn’t Zero, X knew this well, but with the mountain of grief upon his soul and the longing for his friend X could not do anything but stare at the imposter. So as that Zero walked closer to X the more X realized he could not move an atom in his body. The pain in his arm was the only thing that kept him stabilized to this realm of reality as his wide eyes stared at Zero as if he were a child meeting Santa.

But his mind was brought back fully to the reality they were in as Zero backhanded X across the face. In a way, it was a smack of reality. Once again X was practically thrown across the way as Zero grasped X’s neck and threw him. A pathetic groan came from him as he tried to rouse himself from his thoughts. X shook his head from side to side trying to find Asard only to see Zero stepping on Asard’s body and stabbing his saber into the beastloid over and over again. The screams that came from the poor beastloid made X sick. If he wasn’t in his right mind and if he had the ability to he might have thrown up.

“Stop!” X reached out towards Zero and Asard. He was in pain. Asard was in so much pain and the other kept stabbing into Asard in places that wouldn’t kill him. “Stop it!” The snake screamed in agony, and X wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain or of the fear of death. “Don’t--!”  

“Humph. Sympathizing with a Maverick? Have you Maverick Hunters lost your senses?”

X furrowed his brows. He might have thought it came from that Zero but the other stopped to look around in confusion as well. A moment later a shot hit Zero knocking him over from Asard’s body. But unlike X who wailed and squirmed on the ground upon being wounded, Zero jumped up holding his chest which now had a gaping hole in his armor and fled. Another shot of energy flew at him but missed and hit the iron bar melting the thing as if it had touched acid. X stared before noticing a body from the corner of his eye.

He flicked his eyes towards the larger Reploid. He was donned in black armor that almost looked like a tuxedo and had horn protrusions from his helmet. His face wasn’t human, but more mechanical than organic. The Reploid raised his hand to brush dirt from his chest as he walked towards Asard.

“Who… are you?”

He scoffed. “My name is High Max. I’ve been investigating the Zero Nightmare.”

The words rang no bells. “Zero Nightmare? Was that who it was?”

“No,” he shook his head as he approached Asard who was barely alive. “That was The Zero. I knew he was behind it.” He placed his foot on Asard’s head. “Weak Reploids aren’t able to resist it. No doubt that he would use those weaker than him to push his own agenda.” High Max began to crush Asard’s head. Another cry was let out.

Anger boiled in X. “Stop it! Leave him alone!”

“What?” High Max turned to X. “This Maverick?” He looked down to the snake. “His mind is too far gone for you to save him. The Nightmare Virus makes you live in a nightmare. I’m putting him out of his misery.” More pressure was put into Asard.

The snake let out a deafening scream. “No! No! I—I don’t want to--!” He squirmed pathetically on the ground. His hands clawed the ground as he tried to save his own life. “I don’t want to die!”

Tears began to fall from X’s eyes. “Stop it!” He stood weakly and began to walk towards High Max. “Stop it!”

High Max laughed. It was such a sickly laughter. “Weak hearted fool. He’s only trying to trick you.” But by the time X managed to drag himself to push High Max from Asard’s body the snake’s face had already been half crushed. What was once a friend of a friend, a comrade, someone he had bathed in blood with, was now a pile of smashed metal and oil. He hardly considered it a miracle that Asard was still alive.

X knelt near Asard to press his hand against whatever was left of the poor thing. “You’re wrong. He’s my friend,” He stroked Asard’s body to try and comfort him, “and Zero would never do that.” _I know he wouldn’t._

“Idiot. The Nightmare Virus will destroy you because of your sympathy.” X looked up to High Max with a sneer. “Play Hunter while you still can, but stay out of our investigation.” High Max rummaged through one of his pockets. He took a card from it and flicked it down so that it rested on Asard’s body. Oil bled into the paper. “We’ll destroy Zero, and don’t get in our way.”

High Max turned to leave and X was left to hold Asard as his life faded away. X’s promise was broken to Stephen and to see Asard or any Maverick suffer in this way made him sick. Tears spilled from his eyes as Stephen radioed in.

“ _X?_ ”

He didn’t reply.

“ _X? Come in!_ ”

He didn’t reply.

“ _Where are you? Did you take care of Asard?_ ”

He didn’t want to reply.

“ _X? X! What happened!?_ ”

Finally, he replied. “Asard… is dead _._ ”

There was silence. “ _Was it painful?_ ”

And X could not reply. All he could hear was the echoes of Asard’s cries of fear.

But in the end, Asard got to see his friends.


	14. Death's Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things return to zero.

 

Weeks passed. X sat at his desk staring at nothing in particular. The rise of the Zero Nightmare was becoming an issue for everyone. It almost seemed as if there was a grocery list of things piling on one another and all the viruses did nothing to help. He thought of High Max and his accusation against Zero. A scoff left his mouth before sitting upright and pushing himself away from the desk to walk outside his room. There was nothing for him to do. The investigations against the investigators were at a halt for the moment and he was becoming on edge. Not because he wanted to search for a kill, but rather for those he had already killed. Those investigators… some wanted death much like Zero himself while others were repaying a ‘debt’.

It sickened him.

Reploids being used as if they were machines or treating themselves as if they were such. The suicide and wish for death was almost unbearable. Of course it went against Asimov’s Laws, and of course some of them didn’t say much of anything about it in fear of being accused of ‘Maverickism’, but those that still spoke of it almost took out their beating heart asking others to kill them.

That’s how they tricked the system. That’s how they got people to pity them. **Kill me!** They cried. **Kill me, because I want to die!**

It was easy. He still pitied them because that was how Zero was. He wanted to die because of the circumstances placed upon him. X knew well how that felt, even if he didn’t want to die he saw how the pressure of the world could fall against someone to make them wish it. But those investigators he wondered what hell that they had to endure besides the obvious of resurrection.

Sometimes he could still hear them scream.

X pressed his hand against his forehead as he walked down the hallway thinking about the circle of hell that they Reploids had to endure over and over again. He groaned as he walked to nowhere. The phantom of Asard was against his body as he thought of the emotional turmoil that Reploids had to endure yet Humans used them. But this wasn’t Maverick talk! He was no Maverick! He only wanted Humans and Machines to be happy, only wanted them to live together in harmony and no longer did Reploids have to suffer the fate of being forced to kill one another.

He still felt Asard’s body against his as he cried. It was only weeks ago but he still could feel it being so real. X shook his head as he continued down the hallway. The madness was getting to him, and he only wanted an end to this endless war.

“ _Maverick Hunter X. Please report to the combat center._ ”

He looked up at nothing. Do they want him to kill again?

**I don’t want to.**

“ _Maverick Hunter X. Please report to the combat center._ ”

He didn’t want to go. To endure more bloodshed. But he knew that he must.

**I guess I must.**

So with a frown on his face he turned on his heel to head towards the combat center. Dread dripped into his soul, bit by bit. The glass within him already full began to overflow and he didn’t know what to do with it, only to endure.

**I feel sick.**

* * *

 

“You’re alive.”

Zero opened his eyes to stare at nothing. His body had been seared by the sun but it helped that his intestines weren’t sprawled out to be cooked. It had to be purgatory, all of this, but he couldn’t tell anymore. All he wanted was to see X and be done with his life. So he closed his eyes once more to try to think of something else, to try to envision his face, but all he could see was some girl’s face. Who was that?

“Get up.”

He exhaled and felt dust leave his mouth. He never once understood how humans could feel so parched, but now that he laid here in the sun he could taste the dryness on his mouth and how disgusting and almost sticky it felt. It was illogical that he could even feel the need to feel this, but yet he did, as if it motivated him to keep living. “Mhm…” He tried to say ‘what?’ but nothing came from his mouth. He tried to chew on his metal cheeks as he opened his eyes not to see the beautiful sun but instead himself looking back at him. It might have been a dream had he the ability to speak, but instead he couldn’t say a word and was speechless—mute. So he closed his eyes again and opened them up to still see himself, healthy but purple, looking back at him.

The other Zero pressed his hand against the real Zero’s cheek with a smile and rubbed dirt off his cheek. “He said you were dead,” the other spoke. Zero tried to turn his face away but was pulled back to stare. “Liar. He ruined _his_ plans.” At that Zero nearly puked. Just the mere connotation of Dr. Gate’s name made Zero want to run far away from this cruel world. But he didn’t move as the other one moved away from him. It was stupid to think that the false one was done with his body. There was a kick to the side as he smiled. “Get up.” When Zero didn’t move there was another kick as the other dropped something on his chest. “Don’t you want to see him?”

Zero coughed again as he turned on his side and onto his stomach taking the object that was dropped onto his chest. It was strange and cylinder. “W…Wh…” he looked up at the other.

“My master won’t know,” he grabbed Zero’s hair and brought him up to stand on his feet. The machine did nothing but cringe. “I’m testing my own experiment.” The other brought up his hand that held a few vials of something unfamiliar. A moment later he smashed the vial against Zero’s face. In return he shook his head from side to side and coughed once or twice spitting out the awful taste that entered his mouth. Zero shoved the other away but the false one walked towards him. “You don’t have anything.” He took out a saber from his back and activated it. “Walk.” Zero turned to look at the other with his hand to his mouth as it dripped a sickly purple slime. “You’ll die with the rest no matter the outcome.”

_That, I hope._

Zero sneered at the other. Should he die, he wanted to die with a fight. He turned and dropped the metal thing that the other gave him and lunged at the other. He went for the neck in attempt to dig his claws into him and break it off with a clean crack. But he was a slow and stupid machine whose hand was grabbed and wrist became broken in a blink and thrown to the ground. He looked up at the other before getting up and rushing him again but was easily kicked to the side as if it was dead meat. “Stupid machine,” the other smiled. Zero dug his hand into the sand. “Just like **Asard**.”

At the name Asard a rage nearly destroyed his body. He turned to grab the other’s head again. This time he succeeded and began to crush his face in with the might of his powers that he was born with. The purple helmet broke and a scream came from the other. All the rage in the world bottled into his hand and Zero did more than enough to feed that bitter rage into his one hand in hopes to destroy him.

But it wasn’t enough; for the other knew Zero almost as well as Zero himself. The other grabbed onto Zero’s only arm and began to squeeze himself. He squeezed hard enough that eventually that arm broke and all that was left was his legs and teeth. But it would never stop the rage from growing larger. That rage only stopped when the other shoved Zero away and put the saber straight into Zero’s face. Only then Zero stopped. His body urging to walk forward into death but his mind broken to never be repaired. Words wanted to come forth but never could he speak ever again.

“Given up?” There was no reply. The other bent down and picked up the thing that Zero discarded. He walked around and put it on Zero’s back. “Go.” He pointed somewhere in the distant desert. “Don’t turn back.”

And so he began to walk into a hellish nightmare.

* * *

 

“Are you sure?” X blinked up at Signas.

“Without a doubt,” Stephen murmured. Stephen had her hands crossed over her chest as she stared at the ground. “It has to be him.” She closed her eyes. She knew but acted as if she wanted not to know and be a stupid Reploid that the humans wanted them to be. It hurt too much for her to go on. Her will was beginning to fade.

**I want to die.**

Yes, X knew those words that would eventually come from her mouth. But they didn’t really _want_ to die, because of the Third Law.

“Then—Then that’s great news!” X smiled. The mere thought of his friend existing or even parts of his body being found left X with glee. But even X knew there had to be something more to those words because why else would everyone be so sad? He still hoped, even if he should know better. “If its him then we can go get him back. We can save him—we could…!” he stared down at his hands with a smile but everyone looked on with pity. Somehow X felt different from everyone else by the mere connection that he had with Zero. “What’s… wrong?”

Alia cleared her throat. “The readings are the same as Zero. Just off by a smidge. I checked and rechecked but… that’s him.” His glee and happiness were beginning to disappear. It felt as if his stomach began to sink into the floor even if he didn’t have a stomach. His body was beginning to feel numb like all those times before. “If it is him. Then everything that High Max said was true. That Zero killed Asard. _Our_ Zero… killed Asard.” Stephen grabbed her arms tighter and it almost looked as if she was going to shred her body apart.

“You believe it?” Signas thinned his lips.

Alia shook her head, “I don’t know. I didn’t see anything but his readings are so unique that its almost impossible to replicate, at least not to that detail.”

But X didn’t want to believe those words, he wanted to believe the words that his friend was alive and well and not dead. “Zero would never do that,” X shook his head. He knew his friend better than anyone—that’s what he wanted to believe at least. “He’d never kill Asard like that, I know him better than anyone else.”

Stephen sighed since she even knew the wishes that X tried to convince himself was real was only a wish. It was a birth of a wish, a birth of a wish everyone wanted to be real. “I don’t know Zero as well as you, but I wouldn’t put it past him considering Asard’s past.” X opened his mouth to attempt at a rebuttal, but nothing left his lips as he closed his lips. “Asard was important to all of us, but we always knew that something like this was going to happen.”

X couldn’t blame her. Considering where Asard had come from no one would put it past Zero to have slaughtered Asard. But just the way _that_ Zero had killed Asard was so feral and beast like X could not bring himself to admit it was Zero. X thinned his lips and averted his eyes someplace else. “Even if that’s the case, I can’t believe that Reploid was Zero.” How could he when he did not feel the same memories that always occurred when he looked at Zero? He looked at Signas, “I still want to go check it out. Even if it might be a trap I want to see if Zero is alright.”

Signas looked at X carefully. He pressed his hands to his back staring away from X for a moment off to the distance to mull over the possible outcomes the mission might have. “I’ll allow it.” And in that moment a sense of glee rushed X. “But it’ll be a solo mission with limited communication, understood?”

X nodded his head. “I understand.”

Signas was still as he stared at X. There was almost pity in his eyes as he looked at the hopeful vision that X created for himself. Only a second’s pause had passed as Signas swallowed bitterly. The bitterness of death had not fully digested in X’s stomach and the young reploid was already willing to throw it all up from his nonexistent stomach. It was this mission that would either crush X’s dreams of Zero’s revival or rebirth them anew. “We’ll discuss missing briefing later. Return to your room to prep.”

“Yes sir!”

And as X walked away Signas mulled over what he had done.

* * *

Zero pressed his back against a rock. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep forever. But the other that lingered over his body would always laugh at him and press him to go forward onward into the unknown. But he felt so tired, and he wanted to sleep or to perish forever. There came a sigh as he let his head rest on the large rock. Honestly had been less proud he would have begun to crawl on his hands and legs. But still he persevered.

The other walked over to him, pressing his hand against the wall and lowered his head to stare at Zero with a smile. “Tired already?”

Zero stared with anger.

“You can die here then.” The other took Zero’s face and shoved him to the side. It was a force strong enough for him to be caught off balance and fall to the side and lay there. There was little that Zero could do with both his arms broken and will nearly destroyed. A moment he rubbed his head into the dirt before picking himself up to sit on the ground comfortably. He looked this way and that way only to blink strangely at the semi-emptiness before him.

What a strange place to make the coffin in.

But still he crawled elsewhere.

* * *

 

The desert was a hellish nightmare that X tried to stay away from. Ever since that fateful day that Stephen spoke of and since Brother’s departure he had tried to avoid that horrible place. Green had begun to grow back several years after the destruction of Eurasia hit the planet. But it was barely any greenery as it was overwhelmed by the metal that still protruded from the ground and the dust that blew across the forsaken lands. X wanted to go back to the base and forget all about this place, but all he could do was stand there staring into the wilderness scanning the horizon.

This was the place. The very place that Alia had gotten those readings. She told him that it had traveled south since he arrived, but otherwise he was on his own only to conserve the already sparse resources the Hunter Base had.

He shivered in fear. X didn’t even know if he wanted to see Zero dead or alive but he knew deep in his heart that whatever the outcome it wouldn’t be all that X hoped it would be. So with a slightly heavy heart he walked towards the rubble deep into the cavern of metal and dust. He was careful when he entered. The metal spiraled up and around him letting sunlight shimmer through the gaping holes. The silence was overwhelming even for X that loved the solitude of it. Carefully he looked around the place but saw or heard not a sound.

But then there was a sound. Something fell and clattered and he looked the other way with his buster out. His fingers twitched on blue metal and he stared wide eyed at the metal chaos. There was another sound and he looked the other way, then another, then before he knew it his face was against the floor and his mouth was full of dust.

“Z-Zero?” was what he managed to spit out.

The thing above him laughed. X was still for a moment as he felt his stomach in his through before he squirmed on the floor like a cat to swipe at the other. When his eyes gleamed the other figure X opened his mouth wide with confusion. The other smiled as if he had not attacked the other prior. “X… I guess it **is** you. I didn’t recognize you at first.”

X squinted at the other’s pale purple armor and so much paler skin. It was the same person that had killed Asard. “Zero? That can’t really be you…”

Zero laughed. Where the original Zero’s laughter felt like butterflies on flowers this one felt like salt in a wound. “You don’t remember me?”

The glee that X had initially felt was subsiding into rage. “Why? Why did you kill Asard?”

Zero shook his head and walked forward. “Idiot, did you go Maverick just looking for me? Asard was a Maverick, remember? I was doing a favor.”

X frowned. “Zero would **never** say that.”

The other then frowned with teeth bare. “The real Zero wouldn’t take out his fellow Maverick comrade?” X was silent as he bit his lip.

“He would, but not like you!”

The other laughed, “Is that what you think? Then I guess I have to remind you I’m not as fake as you think.”

X shook his head and took a confident step forward as the false Zero slowly stopped walking. “What did you do to Zero? The **real** one?”

There came a huff of a laugh. “That obsolete junk?” he shook his head with his eyes closed. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” From his hand he pulled out his saber colored in a sick purple. “He’s back to living in a nightmare. I’m the **real** Zero now!” He walked closer to X who then put up his arm and aimed his buster at Zero. The fake one paused. “Come on X. See, I’m real. I’m alive! Wouldn’t you want someone who can love you who isn’t half dead?”

“Stop it!” X shook slightly. “You killed Asard and you took Zero away! I don’t care who you are, but you’re not him!” He could still see Asard’s face of agony.

“Zero would have done the same thing.”

“He wouldn’t have!” X sent out a shot from his buster. It connected with the other but it didn’t seem to have done any damage to him besides the superficial on his armor. He needed to calm down before fighting the other, otherwise X was as good as dead—or worst. He charged his buster and released it letting the heat dissipate from his body. It hit again, but it was only superficial. The armor was more than slightly penetrative and X didn’t bring any additional guns that could penetrate it.

The other seemed to only stoke the fire of panic, “Figure it out by now? It won’t work.” With a smile the other ran up to X slicing the air that would have hit the Maverick Hunter. X slid out of the way only to be held by the fake Zero, his claws digging into his throat, and his mouth so close to X’s face. The grin was so wide and X only squirmed under his power and might. It was only through the panic of his defense systems that he made a wild grab for Zero’s old saber that he brought with him to activate and shove through the side of the other’s hip.

But there wasn’t a howl, there wasn’t a wince. The other only dropped him with mild annoyance and looked down at the now sizzling hole that X had made. If X didn’t know better, he was made almost under the same specifications as Zero only more on the painless side. The sheer amount of machine that this Reploid had was almost startling.

The other Zero kicked X that sent him back a few feet and X couldn’t help but wince at the amount of pain. X managed to pick himself off from the ground and stood up staring at the other. He barely flinched as he raised his purple sword up high ready to strike down X. Oil spilled from his side.

It was a duel. A final strike where one would walk free of agony but not without wounds. So X carefully held his sword up though not as skillfully as the other. He barely trained with the saber and it was only his will that made him only pretend that he was. If he had been human X would have sweated so much the saber handle would have fell through his fingers.

His grip tightened as he was still.

A moment later they both charged and the next X had a saber through his gut so that it came out the other end.

The other twisted it in there. “Idiot.” With his other hand he rummaged for something in his back and took out a vial. It was the same shattered glass and contents that Signas had shown X previously weeks ago. “If you really want to see Zero again so badly…” he raised his hand up as if to smash it into X’s face. “Be my guest.” But before he could slam it down onto X’s face X had maneuvered himself to slice off the other’s arm holding that vial. It shattered onto the ground and its contents seeped into the ground without so much as a sputter or crack.

“I rather…” X coughed. “… see him for real.” With the other stunned X took the saber and cut through his body where his cores would be and he fell down without a word. The purple saber deactivated and fell to the floor with a hush and the desert returned to its chaotic and silent mess as it used was before.

And X felt just as empty as he was before. So with a huff, with a sigh, and with a tear in his eye, X slid down to the ground and coughed again while holding his chest.

_I really screwed up this time. Still no sign of Zero and a wound._

He looked at the body that twitched.

_But at least I know it isn’t him._

He looked down at his hand that was stained with black oil. There was nothing left to do but to radio in and return home. He sat there for a few minutes before finally gathering himself up and pressing his hand to his helmet. “Alia… No signs of---.” The words caught in his throat as he saw something red and covered in green crawl in the sand.

Could it be? Could that be him?

“ _X?_ ”

“Hold on… I think I found something.” So carefully he got up from the ground and walked toward what he hoped to be his long lost friend.

* * *

 

“Zero, is that you?”

The old Reploid looked up. He wanted to hide his beaten body away from X. How could he join his beloved companion looking hideous like this? “X?” Zero barely managed to speak those words as he looked up from the ground. He could not hide his scars, his blood, his everything as his body poured out from his arms. It must have been a hallucination, there was no other way that this was real considering all that the poor machine had endured up to this moment. He considered it unlucky to meet X in these circumstances.

The embrace that Zero felt upon him was unreal and for a moment his body rejected it. The feelings and emotions that bubbled up in him would have made him cry had he the tears for it, but X did well to cry for him. “Zero… where have you been? I thought you… I thought…”

Shakily Zero pressed his body against X’s arms. The warmth from another was overwhelming and part of him wanted to run away. “X…” was all he could say. With his voice barely functioning he was surprised that the single name was able to be spoken. He bit his lip and an ugly noise came from his mouth as he finally cried an awful sound. The nightmare that he had been forced upon was finally coming to an end and he could awaken from this cruel joke. He slowly closed his eyes.

“Alia? I—I have Zero.” X wrapped his arms around Zero to hold him up as he began to slip onto the floor. “I need to transport **now**!” Zero was slipping from X’s arms, and he didn’t know how much longer he could stay awake. His poor soul had gone through too much to handle even more emotions. He began to shake as X held onto him tightly as if his friend would go away forever and ever.

_Finally, it’s over._

He sighed with relief as he felt his body dematerialize.

_I can sleep soundly with no nightmares._


	15. Birth by Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With decay, there is hardly anything left but the soul.

There was nothing that he dreamt. Perhaps he might have dreamt of Vile or Dr. Cain but the dreams he wanted never entered his body. Only darkness consumed his heart and it scared him. He’d rather the nightmares to consume him, the dead bodies grabbing onto his skin and pulling him down into the endless pit of hell to see Iris’s maimed body. The empty ocean he laid in was horrifying, almost more horrifying than the endless desert he swam in. So he laid still where ever his body laid and let his soul roam.

He couldn’t breathe nor think as the emotions poured into him.

The silence almost physically hurt.

In the deepest reaches of his soul he wanted this to be the end—for it to be the death that he searched for.

It’s what anyone would have wanted.

So he slept.

* * *

 

Zero woke with a jolt and stared wide eyed at the ceiling. Pipes and things where connected to his torso and there came some kind of voice from his throat. A working voice, a working scream, a working gasp. His hands instinctively reached for the pipes to tear them away only for a gentle hand to lay atop of them as bright green eyes stared deep into his soul. What he saw he didn’t recognize at first, but only a few moments later the gushing emotions struck his heart and a wild noise came from his mouth. He wasn’t used to words, perhaps never would after the ordeal, but still he managed from his throat all sorts of noises that could only be called agony and sorrow.

“X…” he cried as he moved to wrap his arms around X. The reality began to set into him and he couldn’t help but begin to ramble. “X… you’re here.” Panic was soon to set in, “Get it out of me. These things.” He drew back to try and tug the pipes out but his body almost seemed to feel too unreal and almost as if it weren’t there entirely. It was a strange pain, almost phantom pain like.

 “Zero, don’t stress yourself.” Zero still tried to tug them out and when he couldn’t panic seeped further into his soul.

“Where’s Stephen?” he choked. Before X could even answer Zero began to ramble. “Where’s Asard? And Driftwood?” he let go of the pipes and turned to X wide eyed. “Where is everyone? My team?” X was silent as Zero stared at him. He looked pathetic to lay there on the metal slab with things in his stomach and barely the ability to speak or function. X pitied him, pitied the life given back to him.

“Zero they’re…” X paused as he turned away and withdrew his hands. But not another word needed to be said before Zero resigned to silence. He let go of the pipes, let go of everything, only to lay there and stare at the open casket that he laid in. X reached over to touch Zero, to lay his fingers gentle on Zero’s shoulder like he used to all those years ago to console his friend but Zero shoved him away almost violently.

“ **Don’t touch me!** ” he screeched it loud enough for one of the doctors to peer their head into the door. X flinched back as Zero stared at him in anger and disgust. His teeth in full and his body rigid as if ready to strike into X to slay him. There were no words to explain the hell that he had gone through, but that enough was almost enough to picture just a fraction of what he had gone through.

 He wanted to puke. So he laid back on the bed and let those pipes still dwell within him. X was silent again and let his hands slip to his knees as he stared at Zero who grumbled and seethed. He wanted to be left alone with the rage in his body that ate at his soul, he wanted to run far away from the reality that developed as he lived in the fantastical world of the in-between. The pain in his soul wouldn’t subside as he mentally berated himself for this world he created with his own faulty fate.

The question that laid on X’s tongue for so long now seemed to forever be unspoken. He glanced down at his feet. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Zero didn’t move. _Don’t say anything else._

“I never gave up hope that I would find you.”

  _Stop it. Please._

“I never believed for a moment that other Zero was you.”

Finally, Zero moved to look towards X. He wanted to say the same. To say that he had sought out for X once a long time ago. That he could die once more with no regrets to only see X once more. But that was only from afar, not this close and personal. He wanted to die silently, not with tears over his body. He wished to die still, but that thing within him still kept him ticking, still kept him moving. “Pathetic that people thought I was him,” he blinked as X looked up. “Maybe it would have been better if I never existed.” So he turned away from X as the other stood up.

“How could you say that!?” he yelled but Zero didn’t move.

“Being thought as some puppet… bringing this virus for you all to suffer.” He closed his eyes, “I think it would have been better had I never existed.” X’s lips trembled as Zero began to mellow his emotions out. It was the Zero he knew, the emotions he saw, but the personality was vastly different than the one he knew from years ago. Had the desert made him this way? The endless years of sleepwalking and visions turned him into this?

“Where would we be without you?”

Zero scoffed, “Are you that selfie?” X was taken aback. “You know that’s the truth.” He closed his eyes, “I didn’t want to meet you like this. I wanted to slink off and die in peace after I saw you one last time.” _But even I can’t do that. Can’t I?_

X was silent as he stared down at the table. “Is that what you really want?” Zero was silent but he didn’t need to say any words. His answer was painfully clear. But Zero knew that X would complain and wish for Zero to keep on living regardless of the circumstances. Even if he didn’t fully understand the hell that Zero had gone through. He never would, but always he would try.

Zero opened his eyes and looked into X’s eyes. The pain was clear in the other, but the grief that was in Zero was so apparent that tears burst from X’s eyes. Zero laid still as X brought his hands to his face and began to sob. Sob for all those that Zero killed, sobbed for all those that he saw Zero kill, and sobbed for all those that he would kill. Zero bit his lip and turned away from X as he sobbed at his side. There was too much pain in his soul for him to do anything.

From the corner of his eye he saw Iris stand there at the door. Her face was nothing. But still he could feel the pain radiate from her and the sorrow that bubbled from the room.

All of it because of a stupid experiment. So he closed his eyes and tried to withdraw back into an endless sleep. Perhaps then he could be rebirthed into something better and less damaged but the weight of the world was heavy on his back. The pain was unbearable as he heard X cry and his limbs feel nothing.

For a moment, even if it was a little, he wanted to go back. Go back to what it used to be.

To go back and sleepwalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a little over a year Sleepwalking is done! Thank you for all those that stuck with me till the very end and I hope that this fic answered questions as did it leave questions. A lot of it was based on impulse! Where a lot of it was planned from the start. In all I learned a lot from this fic! I hope it entertain for years to come.
> 
> Thank you all!


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